


A Lesson in Humility

by aobears



Series: Deep Breaths [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF!sakura, Coping Mechanisms, Depression, F/M, Gen, Growing Up, Issues with Failure, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Suicide mention, i fucking mean slow burn folks, just a lot of psychological issues that isnt just sakura but like everyone else, lets make sakura useful!, no beta we die like men, non-massacre, self sacrificial tendencies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2018-11-12 23:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 102,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11171910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aobears/pseuds/aobears
Summary: It's a fierce desire to protect, to possess. What's Sakura's will stay Sakura's, until she says otherwise.Where Sakura gets sick of being the weak link.





	1. one night, when half my life behind me lay, i wandered from the straight lost path afar.

**Author's Note:**

> ehm, eh m, yeah so i started writing this in like february, about right after i really got into itasaku, and at first this was just supposed to be a one shot of abt 2k words, but then that didn't happen and it spiraled. (i don't own naruto)  
> i currently do not have a beta for this fic! so please excuse any grammatical/story errors (please tell me if they exist i fix them asap)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes! my chapter notes got deleted oops  
> chapter title is dante's inferno  
> enjoy folKs

     Sakura’s immediate and immovable fixture at the main branch family’s dinner table started after the Chuunin exams. Before then she is a passing guest, and nothing more.

     Her first official visit to the Uchiha compound was after her assignment to Team 7. She would’ve gone earlier, staked her indisputable claim on Sasuke’s heart and showed all of her intimidating female competition that she’s the one Sasuke would choose ( _she_ was let in, not them, suck on that ladies), but the guard had refused to let her, or any other fangirl past the large gate. But when the guard finally let her pass with wide-eyed Naruto and a relatively stiff Kakashi in tow for their _first team dinner_ , she couldn’t help but feel an immense amount of satisfaction push her shoulders back in rarely exuded confidence. Sakura stomped past the gate guard with a confident smirk--a farce, she was quite terrified, really--and met Sasuke with a bright, fangirl smile. She immediately saw him grimace and tried not to wince. A bit deflated, she let Sasuke lead them to his house. Sakura was going to be the perfect, most polite and well mannered kunoichi _ever_ , just like her mother had taught her to be. Her mother might not be a kunoichi, but she was a woman, and Sakura planned to use all of her well bred manners to wow the Uchiha clan and accept her as Sasuke’s future bride to be (even if Sasuke didn’t know it yet).

     Before heading to the compound Sakura had paraded in front of Ino cockily because _Ino_ wasn’t going to Sasuke-kun’s house, _Sakura_ was, and she going to meet his _family_ , and his _big brother_ , and Ino wasn’t. Take that! She was excited, impossibly so, yet despite her excitement at going to beloved Sasuke-kun’s house, she was mildly received.

     Dinner was slightly awkward. Kakashi was tense his entire time there and Sakura would swear that he didn’t move a muscle if not for his slowly emptying plate. Sasuke was relatively silent, but more relaxed than she’d ever seen him to be. He was sitting next to his mother, whose dark hair and solid, elegant posture made Sakura’s mouth lose all its moisture.

     Mikoto was gorgeous and intimidating, each movement was precise and elegant and Sakura knew that this was what a perfect Uchiha Matriarch looked like. She would’ve felt like a small, insignificant bug if Mikoto hadn’t made any conversation, a perfect hostess. She was soft yet stern to her youngest son, and curious of his teammates. Her conversation was direct, and when questions were directed at her, Sakura tried to answer as well and as dignified as she could.

     She wasn’t the only one slightly uncomfortable. Kakashi, when directed with Mikoto’s inquisitive had grown a few shades paler and if possible, stiffened even more. She’d be lying if Sakura didn’t see a glint of sadistic amusement in Mikoto’s gaze. Sakura didn’t know how, but Naruto had somehow made it onto her good side. For some impossible reason, Naruto was the only one not affected by the Uchiha Matriarch’s presence. His boisterous movements and impossibly horrific manners translated well in the otherwise oppressive environment. Mikoto had talked to Naruto, and had even _laughed_.    

     Sakura didn’t get to meet Sasuke’s dad, who to be honest, was probably 70% scarier and more intimidating than Mikoto, or Sasuke’s brother whose name she didn’t care to remember, or anyone else from his family. She knew she hadn’t come off the best, she was completely unprepared for Mikoto’s strength, but she had more chances to show what a polite and well mannered and _perfect_ bride she would be for dear _Sasuke-kun._

     When Fugaku returned from his self imposed exile--He did not want to meet this team. His lovely wife wanted Sasuke to experience a normal childhood, and sure, he could never refuse his wife more than once a week, but he’s aware of how much he’s going to resent this team for how weak they’ll make Sasuke; how much the Elders are going to disapprove. To Mikoto’s displeasure, he was right, when she relayed her mild impression of Sakura, they both knew that Sakura most likely wouldn’t be around after a few higher ranked missions. A chain was only as strong as its weakest link.

     Sakura’s slow growth before the Chuunin exams didn’t score her any points with the Uchiha, but her presence during team dinners, whose location rotated every week, skipping Naruto’s because his apartment was too small and Kakashi’s because his was too messy and barren (as strange as that seemed), was the only way that the main branch Uchiha even remembered she existed.

* * *

 

     The Chuunin exams were rough. The sharp sting of failure from the Forest of Death embedded itself in her like a parasite, as she was unable to protect her teammates, herself. Like a sitting duck, she nursed her teammates wounds and prayed to the gods nothing happens to her. She hasn’t yet needed to go to the hospital in her ninja career, and getting wounded enough to warrant a visit is the highest on her list of ‘Things NOT To Do Today’. The giant insects around her and the casual pass of teams around her hastily constructed hideout cause her heart to lodge in her throat and her already weak hold on the one academy required genjutsu she knows to weaken even further. She can’t hold the genjutsu forever, her chakra reserves are tiny, and any longer than half an hour has her sweating and her knees shaking. She has to rely on her intense paranoia to activate the genjutsu and hope that it’s early enough that the ninja coming towards her do not notice the blip of her chakra. Sakura uses the technique more than once, and all of those times it’s a false reaction. Her terror at being alone and defenseless in a forest named ‘Forest of Death’, has her weaving the genjutsu when there is no ninja around in sight, smell, or sound.

     The sour taste of uselessness only grows in her as she exits the Chuunin exams with no one expecting her to pass, and not passing. Sakura doesn’t know what she was expecting, to pass? That’s funny, she doesn’t care about anything but her dear Sasuke-kun and what _he_ likes, like long hair and his brother.

    Her injuries don’t even warrant a chakra healing session, and she’s treated as if she’s a civilian as soon as she steps out of the ring. She has no presence, no indicator that she’s a ninja other than the hitai-ate adorning her head like a _decoration_ . She doesn’t like it, doesn’t like being dismissed by the people around her, especially civilians because she’s had to cut her precious hair!--gotten _bruises_ for this position as a genin! Who are they to dismiss her _bruises_. That indignation is what fuels her as she's shoved aside by a burly man on her way home from the mission that interrupted third stage of the exams. She’s bruised beyond belief, and has sand in her dress from where Gaara’s bindings held. All she wants to do is get home, take a bath, and eat dinner with parents, and not think about Naruto saving her or Sasuke in the hospital.

     The sky was cloudless and a brilliant blue, the scorch of the sun was soothed by the cool breeze, and she could hear birds flitting and chirping amongst the slow reconstruction of the civilian sector. It was a gorgeous day, filled with hope, and it’s funny how only then, in the brilliant sun she’s plunged into darkness.

     She can barely recognize them. Their limbs are mangled, heads crushed in and blood covers every inch of their skin, torn and not. The only tell that they’re her parents is the matching cherry blossom necklaces, hanging like nooses around their necks. It was a gift, from her, upon becoming a genin only several months prior. To remember her when she goes off on missions; to make sure they know she loves them. They’re dead, dead, dead, dead, Dead. It’s like a mantra, playing in her head like a little song as she stares at their bodies.

     The body collectors have yet to visit this sector of the village. There isn’t really a need for them to visit really, her family was the last to attempt to evacuate, ever her stubborn parents, and were the only ones who died in this sector. The neighbors don’t yet know, they’re too busy getting their own lives in order to visit the rubble that was the Haruno household. You couldn’t see them from the street, which was why no one has noticed the two bodies mangled under the debris, attracting flies under Konoha sun.

     She’s out of commission for weeks. She cried, she mourned, and missed team dinners at _dear Sasuke-kun’s_ house. Anytime she thinks of him her mouth grows sour from her own shallowness. How dare she be infatuated with him to this degree? Her parents are _dead_ . Who cares if he’s a bit put out from the lack of a promotion, and that his father is displeased, she doesn’t even _have_ a father. The thought makes her choke.

     Sakura leases an apartment in the orphan section of the village and tells no one of her recent loss, keeping her grief bottled up, and stored away. How could she force others to grieve or pity her, when the death of the Third Hokage was much more meaningful, and much more resounding and impactful than the death of two civilians? Civilians who faced a deadlier life, ignored by many, if not all shinobi, treated like cattle that fed the shinobi system. Cattle that weren’t protected as carefully as shinobi; Cattle that had nothing to defend themselves with against the evolution of chakra, nothing that would _try_ . Her own safety was secured _because_ she was a shinobi, and her direct contact with the Hokage, who knew her strengths and weaknesses, had kept her safe, even if she had no more strength than a civilian. Many civilians _cattle,_ died that day, her parents just happened to be one of the casualties.

     Kakashi came and checked up on her once. He went to her civilian home and when he found it destroyed, eventually tracked her down in her new apartment. At his appearance she had cried, and he had awkwardly patted her head and escaped her apartment before she did something like hug him or talk to him about her feelings. It might’ve been cruel, to leave a freshly orphaned child alone as she acknowledges the death of her parents, but Kakashi is a weak man; the ice thin glass bottling his own grief will shatter at any such provocation, and who will comfort a child and an old man when they’re the only ones there?

     He made excuses for Sakura if Naruto asked. It was always bullshitty enough that Naruto got distracted by the bullshit, and forgot the original point of his question. Sasuke was glad for the lack of annoying interruptions, and didn’t care enough to ask.

     By the second week of her self-enforced solitude to deal with her grief, she hit a block where she was just too tired to cry anymore. She was too tired to keep crying and all she’s ever done is _cry._ How much more is she supposed to cry? she can’t keep crying _forever_ . It’s at that same time that she runs out of food and is too jittery to sit still and wallow. For the first time in weeks she steps into her new tiny cluttered bathroom and really _looks_ at herself in the mirror. At the sight of her tangled hair and the deep circles under her eyes, she almost pulls a kunai. Wondering what Ino would say she begins the arduous process of cleaning herself up. She washes her face, and brushes her teeth, and after scratching at her head with a comb, climbs into the shower. Instead of sitting on the cold tiled floor and getting out, she washes her new short hair and scrubs at the thin layer of sweat and despair that clings to her skin. For the first time in two weeks she leaves the shower in under 20 minutes.

     Her next job is food. She’s been slowly working her way through what she bought before her hermit habits, and that has lasted for 2 weeks with her not having the energy to swallow. After finding something to wear that didn’t make her cry, she feels well enough to open her door and leave her new house. To say that her eyes stung at the bright light was an understatement. After gaining some amount of vision, she stumbles down the stairs and sets off towards the market, trying to avoid absolutely everyone she knows. Sakura is raw, and knows that if anyone even so much as touches her, she would break and fall apart.

     Her new clothes are strange against her skin as she makes her way through the streets. Where she would usually catch someone’s eye with the clash of red on pink, she is mostly ignored. The dark green turtleneck and loose black pants are dark enough that even the general civilian population pays her no heed. She bought the outfit herself after Iruka had gone over the shinobi uniform, and the merits of an unpersonalized style. She never actually wore it, with competition for Sasuke-kun’s heart being so tough, if she didn’t stand out she had no chance in the ring. With her bright hair that absolutely refused to take to dye, and her inability to hold a henge for long periods of time, the bland outfit mutes her already weak presence.  

     Sakura leaves the markets with two small bags of food. Naruto would love what she bought right now, and that’s a testament as to how terrible her meals for the next week are. It’s mostly packets of Ramen. She has vegetables in the bag too, as well as some grapes, so she isn’t completely forsaking her health, but anything resembling a homecooked meal makes her chest impossibly tight so she forgoes the fresh meat and fish available.

     She could go home now, eat dinner, sleep, but the idea of going home to stare at her wall makes her palms itch. She wouldn’t be doing anything, at all. She takes the scenic civilian route to library. She’s not particularly worried that someone will recognize her, her parents had civilian friends yeah, but Sakura is more of a Shinobi Gal, and rarely, if ever interacted with them.

     Once she gets to the library, she stacks her groceries in one of the civilian cubbies, and makes her way into the shinobi section of the library. She flashes her hitai-ate at the bored chuunin manning the shinobi section of the library, and makes her way to the genin section. Book learning is all she’s really good at, so she thinks she might as well start there.

     Her failure in the Forest of Death sits heavily in her mind, so do Sasuke’s harsh words, which while still true, humiliate her.

     She isn’t disappointed at what she sees on the shelves. Her lack of initiative in the Academy translated in her not caring enough to visit the library, so the material in front of her has yet to be perused. She starts sifting her way through the stacks of scrolls and has to hide the sinking feeling in her stomach. There’s so much. She has so much to do.

     She finds a scroll on basic chakra control, and decides that she’ll start there. Kakashi had said she had good chakra control, and she knows the basics like tree walking and has almost got water walking down. She’s going to review this scroll and move on from there as to what interests her.

     She expects to know most, if not all of the material in this scroll, and she is sorely disappointed when the opposite turns out to be true. She knows the section on leaf concentration and tree walking, and the tips in the section on water walking are incredibly helpful, but then that’s all she knows. The scroll continues on to basic genjutsus and incredibly basic exercises to prepare the reader to make chakra scalpels. There are sections on nature transformation and shape transformation, and even though she knows these terms, even the basic overview provided by the scroll is way deeper than the Academy had gone. There’s also a brief mention of Yin and Yang and she’s never ever heard of this and wants to scream because why had she wasted 6 years in the academy and learned _nothing_.

     She’s failed at even being a paper ninja! She’s done nothing! She knows her chakra exists and she knows how to fight an academy student in taijutsu. She also knows how to aim a kunai and throw it, but everything they’ve taught in the Academy is useless to her. Only Clan kids benefit from this because they already know everything. They’re not there to learn to be ninja--the Academy doesn’t do that, their _Clans_ do that--they’re there to get an overview on the basics before they specialize, early and with complete lethality.

     This realization is an eyeopener, that the Academy doesn’t give two shits about the civilian kids and only cares about Clan kids. It makes sense, clan kids have a higher rate of survival, they start training earlier, most if not all clan kids have some sort of kekkai genkai to back them up, it shouldn’t shock her, but it does. Even if it’s not her fault this time, (it is it’s always her fault) she’s failed again and understands why she’s never been taken seriously. It’s humiliating.

     The emotion burns in her chest and she’s furious at no one and everyone, especially herself. She collects the scroll she’d been reading, and goes back to the bookshelf. She grabs another on basic chakra control, and a scroll on each thing that she had seen mentioned in the first. She grabs an overview of genjutsu, an overview of the whole medicine-nin career, chakra types, several D-rank jutsu scrolls and a few scrolls that are focused on increasing chakra capacity.

     The look the desk shinobi gives her is completely unimpressed as she dumps her insane collection of scrolls onto his desk for checkout.

     “Really? Can’t you check them out one at a time?” He asks, and Sakura has to restrain herself from yelling out her frustrations at being set up to fail from when she was 6.

     She takes a steadying breath and looks the shinobi in the eye with all of the anger that a 12 year old civilian can muster, because she’s not a shinobi, she refuses to call herself that she has no right. “Just--Check them out.”

     The desk shinobi sighs as if he’s been tasked with doing a series of D-ranks, and sets to longsufferingly move each scroll over the scanner.

     10 beeps later and a cloth bag that the desk shinobi had given her after looking at her tiny form and the large collection of unwieldy scrolls and Sakura has left the library, and with her groceries picked up from the cubby, walks home as quickly as she can.

     Her desire to get home makes her go by the shinoi route, and in her focus she forgets that other people she knows exist.

     “Hey Forehead! Sakura! Jesus you pink haired freak, slow down!” She hears, and freezes.

     She and Ino haven’t spoken since the Chuunin Exams, and she knows that Ino is going to force to her to catch up with her before she can escape. They’re mutual knockouts have broken the rift of rivalry, and Sakura promised to catch up with her best friend. She’s told Ino absolutely everything, as her best friend when they were younger, and she knows that Ino is going to grill her on why she hasn’t been by, and how are her _parents? Are they disappointed that you didn’t make Chuunin?_

     Sakura knows that if Ino makes any move to actually talk to her she’s going to start crying, and won’t be able to pick herself up off some civilian’s rooftop. Ino has always been sympathetic, a shoulder to cry on, the one to yell at her tormentors. Sakura can’t though, she can’t do that right now, can’t tell her because she doesn’t know what to say, everything is raw and she’s alone and there’s nothing worthwhile about her as a ninja to even try to speak to Ino. Her heartbeat is suddenly impossibly loud in her chest.

     “Hey Ino! I’m sorry I need to go! I’ll talk to you later!” She yells and winces as her voice almost breaks. Ino hears the almost break, stops and frowns in an expression similar to: ‘what the fuck?’. Sakura takes her hesitation and sprints. She is not doing this, she cannot talk to anyone right now. She hears Ino yelling after her again and Sakura hopes to the gods that she gets bored and decides not to chase her. Sakura runs and finally collapses at the doorstep of her new apartment. She didn’t feel Ino’s chakra following her, but new knowledge has hinted that chakra presence can be masked, and Ino’s a clan kid so she probably knows how to do that. Sakura isn’t bitter. Talking to Ino will open a can of worms, their friendship, Sasuke, her parents. It’s too much to handle at one time, and Sakura only now has the bare strands of motivation to work off of to bathe and feed herself.

     She grimaces and after a few seconds of trying to pick herself off the doormat, collapses again. Her thighs and calves are burning, and she can’t catch her breath. Her weakness infuriates her, she hates this so much.

     Eventually she rises up and forces herself through her door and it only takes one look at the dark silence stretching in front of her, one look to recognize that no one is waiting for her with warm food and small talk, or a cup of cocoa after a rough training session. There’s no one, no one to brush her hair from her face as she’s reading, or grip her shoulder in greeting when she’s eating. No parents to comfort her when she cries, no parents to laugh with or whine about her teammates. No one. She is completely alone now, an orphan, and she doesn’t know how Naruto doesn’t cry all the time. She drops her bags at the doorstep, closes the door behind her and falls down to cry because she’s dizzy and there’s no one to pick her up now.

     She spends maybe a half an hour crying, and eventually her tears run dry and she feels nothing and everything at the same time. Sakura picks herself up and distracts herself with chores. She puts away the food and washes the dishes, she collects the clothes on her floor and hides them in a closet because she’s still a child and if she sees more red dresses she’s going to burn every last one.

     She doesn’t know what to do now that her new home is clean. She isn’t hungry anymore, and she’s still angry and sad and doesn’t know what to do with herself. She spots the scrolls and decides that she might as well become a good paper ninja, and then maybe she’ll become a real ninja.

     She opens her first scroll, and begins to take notes.

* * *

 

     Kakashi visits again, once or twice. He’s never there for long because as soon as Sakura sees him and as soon as he tries to say something, she can’t keep the tears at bay and starts crying again. Kakashi doesn’t do criers, so he leaves the meager offering of soda and chips and leaves her to her studies.

     She finishes reading her scrolls and is working on the medical overview, and likes what she sees. She can’t do any of it, (because she a failure, she’s not a real ninja) but she likes memorizing the terminology and she very much enjoys being able to spout off a list of anatomical parts and diseases.

     She doesn’t go outside, only travels between her bed, her fridge, her shower, and her table where the scrolls lay. Sakura tries to practice controlling her chakra and increasing her reserves, but as soon as she starts she quits. She cannot motivate herself, and every attempt at going outside is thwarted by this lack of motivation. She takes so many naps and cries so much she doesn’t know if she’s ever going to do anything different.

     Eventually, the pent up energy catches up to her again. She can’t sit still and she keeps on remembering how utterly useless she was, is, before and now, and probably forever. How she can’t stop crying at the slightest provocation. The thoughts keep hounding her day and night until she breaks.

     She hates this. She hates being weak so much. She cannot stand it, can’t stand _herself_. Fury seeps into her bones and even screaming does help. This anger and helplessness makes her skin itch, and no matter how much she scratches at her skin, deep red scratches just shy of spilling blood,  the feeling doesn't abate. She doesn’t know what to do with herself until she senses Anko’s chakra signature passing in her general area.

     Sakura doesn’t know Anko all too well, but she was one of the Chuunin Exam proctors. She hasn’t spoken enough with Anko fully know the girls deal, but knows from brief encounters that she is as brutal and as crazy as her initial appearance and impression give off.

     Immediately she scrambles out of her window in pursuit of the tokubetsu jounin.

     Sakura can feel the moment Anko figures out that Sakura’s following her, since her speed immediately increases, chakra presence decreases, and she initiates a spiraling path that will eventually lead Sakura in circles. Sakura persists, the tension in her limbs is almost incapacitating and her fierce annoyance (at Anko? At herself? Who knows.) grows with every passing minute. Anko eventually stops at one of the training grounds, and Sakura stops a few meters away from her, sweaty, her breathing labored both from the strain of chasing after a high ranked shinobi and her own anxiety.

     “What the hell do you want kid?” shouts Anko with her hand on her cocked hip. Sakura can see the tick in Anko’s fingers as she looks the pink haired girl over.

     “Fight me,” says Sakura and clenches her fists by her side to keep them from actively shaking. It doesn’t work to well; she can still feel her arms and fists twitching from the tension that she can’t release. Anko notices as well, and her questioning look grows unimpressed.

     “I’m not supposed to fight kiddies or twigs,” she says and Sakura has to clench her jaw. The remark stings but she’s fully aware as to how true it is. She’s barely 12, and not strong enough for her age to not matter. Her desire to be skinny and lithe for Sasuke caused her to forgo meals and protein rich foods. She is thin and twig like; nowhere does her thinness hide strength, and no longer does this weakness satisfy her.

     “Beat me up then.” She says, frustration burning in her eyes.

     Anko considers her again for a minute, “I’ll wipe the floor with you kid, you know that right?” Her hand slips down into her weapon pouch and subtly her stance shifts evenly to two feet.

     “Yeah, I know.” Sakura says, and Anko doesn’t hesitate. She flings what Sakura thinks to be 6 kunai in her direction. She doesn’t see them, but instinct propels her to the side, the furthermost kunai just grazes her side. The sharp pain from the slash consumes her for a minute, and a little bit of tension drains out of her as she feels blood seep into her clothes. Sakura lunges, and fires her own kunai. Her aim is messy and her strength is lacking to make the kunai dig deep. Anko steps away  almost leisurely from the kunai and with one hand blocks the punch Sakura tries to throw. Anko is bored, Sakura knows this, and chokes at the punch to the gut she receives. The tokubetsu jounin’s fist replaces the air in her lungs and she immediately feels dizzy. Anko lets go of her fist and Sakura drops to the floor in a stunning display of complete and utter worthlessness. Anko scowls and delivers a kick to Sakura’s side. She lets out a yelp as her foot connects with the gash from the kunai.

     “Kid did you just get out of the hospital or some shit from a really long stay?” Anko asks and steps back a few, letting Sakura raise herself to her knees. “Because you’re really fucking weak; it’s really pathetic.”

     Sakura doesn’t reply, instead she forces herself to her feet and rushes at Anko again. Instead of trying the straight forward punch, Sakura feints and slips around to try to punch Anko from the back, aiming her punch into Anko’s spine. She’s so slow that she barely gets around to Anko’s side before the tokubetsu jounin is facing her and following her spin. Her fist gets deflected and Sakura feels her wrist creak and shoulder wrench painfully from Anko’s less than merciful deflection. The force of the deflection makes Sakura turn around her arm and Anko immediately jabs her side several times in quick succession. Sakura uses her momentum from the spin to rotate again and punch with the same hand, attempting to ignore the jabs in her side. Her footing is incredibly unstable, and her already weak punch is laughable as her side contracts from the pain and her fist connects with Anko’s arm. Anko doesn’t even budge and her chakra flares as her annoyance grows.

     “Kid are you even fucking trying?” Her face is marred by disgust, and she doesn’t care to indulge her anymore. Her stance shifts and Sakura can no longer see her. She only feels the punches she’s receiving, her stomach, her arms, once on her neck and repeatedly on her chest. Anko’s foot comes out and flips Sakura over, wrenching her arm back painfully and stepping on her back. Sakura lets out a scream, only just now bubbling to the surface at the sharp pain of her limb moving unnaturally. Sakura may not be strong, but she’s been reading, and she knows that if Anko steps any harder, Anko will either be merciful and only dislocate her shoulder, or she will pull out all of the stops and not only dislocate her shoulder, but break her wrist, elbow and spine in one sharp movement. She may not know Anko very well, but her reputation precedes her, and the chances of her never becoming a capable ninja skyrocket immediately in this position. Panic fills her chest and amidst her scream she chokes out a sob resembling the word ‘yield’. Anko keeps holding onto her, and then reaches to scoop Sakura’s second arm behind her in the same position her other arm is. Sakura doesn’t stop screaming; panic grips her frame and she’s paralyzed with absolute terror. Anko presses her foot down harder on her spine and Sakura feels her ribs creak. Her voice becomes raw as she repeats her surrender mindlessly amidst her screams.

     “Kiddie seriously, don’t fucking bother me with this pathetic shit.” Anko says as she lets go of Sakura’s arms and lets her flop bonelessly onto the grass. Sakura immediately curls herself into a fetal position, and lets herself shake and completely disconnect from her surroundings.

     “Go bother your jounin sensei or whatever, maybe some academy kids.” Anko says again crossing her arms and her face slightly scowling. “I’m normally chill with fucking up a few kids but you don’t even make it fun. It’s just sad and makes me feel slightly shitty.” She gives Sakura a nudge with her foot and her lip curls as she sees Sakura jerk towards herself. “Ugh, be glad I’m not an enemy nin or whatever, and don’t get off on little girls getting hurt.” She turns away and leaves the training ground.

     Sakura doesn’t know how long she lays there. She’s terrified, and the adrenaline is still pulsing through her. It similar to how she felt during the Wave mission, or during the Forest of Death in the Chuunin Exams but this is worse, so much worse. She’s never been in the direct line of fire, completely one on one without her teammates to defend her. She’s never felt weaker and more humiliated in her life.

     Eventually she stands, hobbles back to her new apartment and passes out on her couch.

     When she wakes up and showers, she feels better. The tension in her limbs that had previously set her out to find one of the deadliest jounin who would agree to her request to beat her up is gone. In it’s place is an impressive collection of bruises from Anko’s fists. Her torso sports a massive shadow, and she can see the evidence of her broken capillaries by the red dots, blood seeping into tissue. Her shoulders ache like no one’s business, and her back is adorned with a boot shaped bruise. She can’t arch her back without yelping. She’s lucky to have not lost her voice; she’d been punched in the throat, her trachea was most likely bruised, and her screaming had seriously messed up her vocal chords. Every time she tried to say or even whisper something, she has to wince and grab her throat.

     She’s humiliated, completely so, and she channels that humiliation into determination. She hates being humiliated, but this is something she needs. Sakura won’t try anything without it. Without the shame of failure she will achieve nothing; she’ll be the paper ninja just as it shows on her file--all brains and not an ounce of actual ability.

     She showers, eats, and settles back down to both ice her bruises, and study the text she had pulled from the library before.

     Kakashi visits her, and she can tell he saw what Anko did; He doesn’t seem shocked by her appearance, and he doesn’t mention it. He comes in, sets down a soda and some chips on her table and looks over at her. She doesn’t move a muscle at his entrance, and remains seated at her small table on the floor, texts open in front of her, and ice plastered to almost every visible spot on her body. His gaze is assessing.

     “You good now?” He’s eyeing her warily, and she understands why he tries not to move. His previous visits have caused her to cry, and no matter how quickly he vanishes, he always hears her initial sob. He might be a great ninja, but he’s no therapist, and has just as much shit to deal with as she does.

     “Yeah.” She whispers as loud as her vocal chords allow her to, and slowly grabs a grape from the plate next to her. Her movements are slow, and she’s treating him exactly as he’s treating her. They’re both slightly broken, and if Kakashi makes a sudden movement, she’ll panic, and if she makes even a move to cry, he’ll panic too.

     Kakashi nods, and slowly, ever so slowly moves his hands back into his pockets.

     They’re like cornered, wounded animals.

     “I’ll leave you to it then.” he says, and shunshins away before she can answer.

     Sakura looks at the bag of chips and soda, and for the first time in the past 3 weeks of these visits, is able to restrain herself from crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im a slut for reviews


	2. when the dawn opened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS AND SUPPORT IT REALLY MAKES ME SUPER HAPPY U GUYS DONT UNDERSTAND  
> also, this chapter is sorta short, originally this chapter and the next was supposed to be one, but it got too long... so i split it up into two chapters. (((ALSO gotta be honest this isn't one of my favorite chaps but i hope you all enjoy it lmao))  
> also since i have no beta somethings might be off and i felt i might as well double update ? bcz why not? so in a few hrs chapter 3s gonna be up  
> enjoy!!!! (chapter title dante's inferno)

     Another week or so passes, and Sakura feels better. Not perfect, not great really, but better. She’s able to go several days without crying, and Kakashi had managed to remain in her company for a good hour before vanishing. This success at human interaction was mostly due to the fact that he wasn’t looking directly at her. Eye contact was rare, and was mostly used to gauge her emotional state before proceeding further into the conversation. If she looked away first, a sentence on the daily life of her friends--what he saw Ino doing, or where he saw Team 3 last--was all he would give her. If he looked away first, it was a quick sentence about their teammates. In this way, short snippets from her only contact to the outside world she learns that Sasuke left and has not returned. She learns from Kakashi that she’s missed the Third Hokage’s funeral, and she’s also missed the inauguration of the Fifth Hokage that Naruto brought home. Oh, and Naruto also left with one of the Sannin. That little snippet almost kills her.

     Both her teammates are gone. One, who knows where the fuck he went off to and the other following one of the best ninja on the goddamn continent and where is she? Who is she with? What is she doing? Sakura’s glad that Kakashi leaves before seeing her like this.

     Her parents are dead, her friendships unstable, her teammates have left her. The only person she has left is Kakashi, and it’s that last tie, a weak, unstable, so easily breakable tie that she begins to cling to with everything she has.

     He tries to be a teacher, a mentor to her, but it’s hard when she refuses to step outside, and he doesn’t force her to. Kakashi knows coping mechanisms, and this is one of the least damaging, so he lets her move at her own snail pace to the reintegration into the ninja world. He tries teaching her, but having lost his own teacher, all he can really do is look over her notes, and answer the questions she’s already posed. It seems that her work is also a distraction from her own mind, so he supports it, writes down keywords in a loopy, lazy script that would help her further.

     While they help, Kakashi’s visits are draining. She’s grateful when he comes, and she’s even more grateful when he leaves. There’s always a sort of air when arrives, tense, practically guilty, and she can never tell if he’s trying to assuage his own guilt or hers, so she never asks. She’s grateful when he leaves that almost toxic air, and goes out her window and leaves her to stew in her own grief. He doesn’t deserve sadness.

     She hears that the Uchiha clan has staged a giant retrieval mission, for Sasuke, and that when even lead by the Uchiha genius, it’s a failure. The only news that came from the search, is that Sasuke would do anything to surpass his brother, and if that meant following Orochimaru, then so be it. Orochimaru’s name leaves her paralyzed and her heart beating a staccato in her throat. In the Forest of Death she didn’t even try to land a hit. If she had, would things have been better? If Team 7 was composed of 3 genin ninja instead of 2 genin ninja and a civilian? Would her parents have had time to evacuate?

     When Kakashi tells her of Sasuke’s ambition, he is not cheerful. She might not know him very well, but she can see in the way that he forces his eye into a smile, and how he grows unnaturally still, that he is less than pleased with this outcome.

     It's a stressful week, she tries not to dwell on it.

* * *

     The day comes when Sakura finishes the last sentence of the medical scroll she’s checked out (basic biological concepts and their relation to physics, it’s interesting stuff, she likes it), and has to go outside. She knew this day was coming, and in preparation for it she had dragged out her reading material in an impressive display of procrastination.

     She first just ignores the scroll completely when she realizes she has one measly chapter left. That tactic failed miserably, bookworm tendencies ran in the family. Her second tactic was to reread the scroll. That, predictably, also failed, when she quickly got fed up with the review. Her third, and more productive form of procrastination (now isn’t that ironic) was to revise her notes. She had gone over passages that raised questions, and tried to reason her way through them. Rewritten her questions and in response to those raised more, but finally, there was nothing left for her to learn, or revise. That was the day that she had to venture outside again.

     The morning that Sakura wakes up with absolutely nothing to read, nothing to study, she’s struck by a terrifying feeling. A paralysis of sorts, at the realization that she needs to get up and go outside, into the public. She knows that Ino’s angry at her and looking for answers, and that’s a conversation that has to, is going to happen, whether she wants it or not. Sakura knows she’s relatively safe in her new apartment, she doesn’t want a chance meeting, but she has to go out she needs food, she needs scrolls. She lays for a good 15 minutes in her bed, staring up at the white of her ceiling, willing herself to get up. When she finally manages to sit up, the sun is just starting to rise, and Konoha is quiet. Despite the paint of quiet dawn outside her window, she knows that the peace will not allow her to fall back asleep.

     It’s as good as time as any, to go out. By the time she leaves her apartment and nears the market the vendors will have just set out their wares, and only the most determined civilians will make their way for the best fruit. Any shinobi are dead on their feet, either departing for a mission, or returning from one, and she knows no one with that busy of a schedule.  
On her way to the library, Sakura sees two blurs of green. Even though one of them is bandaged, they’re moving quickly, and she, from distant shouts, recognizes them to be Rock Lee and Guy. Sakura’s just about to grimace and move in the opposite direction, but Rock Lee’s voice carries over the wind, and she cannot possibly say that she did not hear or see him. She’s a shit liar when confronted.

     “Sakura-san! Youthful Cherry Blossom!” Sakura waits for them to jog up to her. She can see that Rock Lee is limping slightly, and he’s heavily bandaged. Despite that he’s sweaty, but his face is alight with determination that almost blinds her.

     “Lee, Guy-sensei,” Sakura says, and forces back the instinct that makes her head drop in submission. She’s not the same, won’t be the same anymore.

     “What is my Youthful Pink Kunoichi doing out on this freshly born Day of Strength!” Guy asks, shouts really, and strikes a very complicated pose that Sakura knows she won’t be able to reproduce. Her flexibility is OK, but her strength is abysmal to even hold that pose.

     “I’m just out,” She says, and Lee nods his head seriously. It’s a little strange, but Sakura doesn’t have the emotional energy to be derisive.

     “We are on our 87th lap of our daily 100 run!” Guy says. They’re still jogging.

     “Good luck?” Sakura says, with lack of anything better, and watches as they resume with cheers and shouts. She watches their slowly receding forms. Twig-like, Anko had said, and pounded her into the dirt. She’s unable to sprint for longer than a minute, and that means death in shinobi terms (strange how she hasn’t died yet). An idea strikes, and ditching her satchel, Sakura runs like mad until she catches up to them.

     “Can I train with you?” She pants out after yelling to catch their attention. Both Lee and Guy stop for a second at her uncharacteristically forward request. Seeing in her eyes the sudden determination that they had never previously seen before, and they turn to look at each other in contemplation. Sakura can’t help but consider their synchronized turn to be incredibly creepy, but steels herself. Her taijutsu is absolute shit, and having Anko beat her up is not a conducive way to train. She is unable to get any hits, and the quickness of the spars would give her nothing. Anko will also most likely not agree to another spar. Sakura’s boring, she has no skills to make her a worthy training partner, and no motivation to try by herself. Here’s to hoping that Guy and Lee will help her.

     “Your Youthful Determination is Striking! Cherry Blossom!” Guy says, “We accept your daring request at increasing your Blossoming Skills!”

     “Follow us on our daily 100 run this emerging Morning! We have 13 laps left to complete!” Sakura doesn’t have time to ask laps around what, when Lee and Guy immediately continue running. Her lungs already slightly achy, she follows after them.

     By her 2nd lap around Konoha, Konoha, those taijutsu maniacs run 100 laps around Konoha, every morning at 5 am, she’s dead. Sakura’s breathing is no longer steady, and she can feel the crick in her side and the pain in her legs as forces them to move. Lee and Guy are a bit ahead of her, and she can see that even in his injured state, Lee’s pace is eve, as he keeps a bellowing conversation with Guy about Youth, and Determination. Sakura is ready to quit; she cannot keep running without vomiting her lungs. She collapses after a few more meters and immediately tries to get back up, her legs protesting every movement. Guy and Lee notice her collapse, and jog back to her, watching as she forces her way up to her feet.

     “This is a good start Cherry Blossom! A very Good Start!” Guy says, and there’s no derision or sarcasm in his tone, and Sakura loses a bit of tension she wasn’t aware of before. Guy gestures to one of the training grounds a few meters away from where she has fallen.

     “While Lee and I finish our daily laps, you must do 100 push ups!” At his remark, she can only be happy that she doesn’t need to use her legs as extensively. She all but crawls to the center of the clearing, props herself up and starts the push ups. She makes it through 20, the Academy minimum, and starts to feel the pull of exhaustion on her arms. She makes it another 5 before her arms give out, and sees the blur of her two new training partners speeding by, completing another lap. At their sight, and her pitiful attempt at running, she forces her arms to hold her again, despite the lactic acid build up completely restricting her movement. She’s able to do another 10 more with her arms screaming in protest, sweat pouring freely, and her own humiliation forcing her on, because she’s so weak! She can’t even do 5 laps around Konoha, she can’t do even 30 pushups without needing to die! She hears rather than sees Guy and Lee return, and hears Lee’s exuberant yelling as he starts on his push ups. Sakura collapses, failure sitting heavy in her gut, and looks up at Guy who is about to settle in and complete his own push ups.

     “I cannot do any more,” She says, and Guy nods, almost thoughtfully.

     “100 sit ups!”

* * *

 

     Sakura exits that training session dirty, wet, and incapable of moving any muscle in her body. After the sit ups (which she wasn’t able to complete, she stopped at 55), Guy let her sit back and stretch. Expecting a moment of reprieve, she had begun the Academy stretches, only to have Guy stop her, and begin forcing her muscles into angles that she had not previously known her muscles to move. The stretch “break” was anything but a break. At the completion of that segment, she could feel every single muscle in her body, and it was not pleasant. Her legs were only just starting to work, when Guy announced that they were going to spar. Sakura’s hopes had already plummeted so low, she could only grimace when she was forced to stand in front of Lee. Lee himself had completed the 100 morning laps, 100 push ups, and 100 situps, supplementing his “warm up” with a ridiculous number of one armed handstand push ups, and squats carrying giant logs in each hand. He looked as fresh as when she had first seen him at 5 am, on his 87th lap around Konoha.

     “Sakura-san! I am sure that your Youthful Vigor will not fail you now! Spar with me!” He said, and lunged.  
To say that Sakura was able to wonderfully combat Lee, exhibiting an increasingly complex combination of taijutsu against Lee would be a complete and utter lie, so she doesn’t bother thinking it. Upon first contact she was down, and only the humiliation of failing so quickly and pathetically in front of people who didn’t know her very well, forced her to stand again and attempt her own weak punch against Lee’s lightning strikes. She doesn’t know why she’s trying so hard, after his match with Gaara, Sakura will never, ever stand a chance.

     When Guy determined the morning’s training to be over, congratulating Sakura on completing their workout, she laid on the training ground for a good half hour, letting her muscles relax from the onslaught of actual torture that she had imbued on them that morning, and gulping air so she doesn’t get brain damage. When she finally stands up, and collects her library bag, it’s already noon, and her stomach aches from hunger along with muscle pain.

     After getting lunch from an out of the way vendor, and avoiding anyone she could’ve possibly known, grime-covered and sweat soaked she trudges to the library. There, to the dissatisfaction of the chuunin manning the desk, she spends another hour looking over her notes, and collecting new scrolls (anatomy, and intro to the circulatory, renal, respiratory, lymphatic, nervous systems and more). She also forces herself to check out 2 basic genjutsu jutsus that she would force herself to learn. Armed with less, yet still a hefty amount of literature, she returns to her home, takes a shower and begins once again to read.

     She makes it through half of the instructions on the genjutsu before she starts to fidget. While able to learn the academy jutsus, this scroll makes no sense no matter how she looks at it. Make the victim envision what you need. What does that mean? How to you make them envision? Does chakra do that on its own? Does she need to direct it somewhere else not just around? She gives up after her questions reach a page, and she can’t reason through any of them.

     Despite the residual pain in her muscles that she was sure wouldn’t allow her to move the next day, she’s still restless. Incomprehension and lack of chakra usage these past several days make her brim with excess energy.

     Sakura hadn’t had a chance to try any of the chakra building techniques that she had read from the week before, and decided that it was high time she did. Those were simpler to understand than genjutsu scrolls, they built on exercises she learned at the Academy. Collecting several leaves from her doorstep, and clearing a space on her wall, she begins. She first decides to try tree walking again. Only instead of walking up a tree she would walk up her wall. Getting up was painful, but once she had chakra flowing through her feet, she walked across her ceiling a few times before coming back down, and sitting and massaging her aching thighs. She next sets the leaves to each major tenketsu point, and forces her chakra to hold them in place. She succeeds in holding 3 at one time, but any more and her concentration wavers, dropping one, or all of the leaves. Settling down, she performs the exercise until she can feel herself scraping the last reserves of her chakra. When she looks out of her window, it’s completely dark.

     With her body, and chakra coils thoroughly exhausted, and her nightly ritual complete, she falls into her bed, and sleeps.  
Sakura wakes the next morning at 4 am, and despite her muscles screaming in protest, sets out to run her 100 laps around Konoha.

* * *

 

     Three more weeks after such excursions, and Sakura feels well enough to walk out of her new home at any point in the day. She doesn’t explicitly search out her friends, but she doesn’t run away if they meet in the street. She hasn’t spoken to Ino yet. Her body is sore daily, but she’s able to get 23 1/2 laps in, and is able to complete all 100 sets of each exercise, and she feels better, stronger. She’s devoured the medical texts in the academy library, and she’s hit the limit on all the books she can read in the genin section, and now only needs her chuunin promotion to keep reading.

     She recruits Kakashi into her training the next time he visits. She pulls on his sleeve until he follows her out her door and onto a training ground. She doesn’t understand jutsu scrolls, and well, he’s supposed to be her jounin instructor, even if she’s the only one left. There is helps her, or tries to help her. Kakashi explains that if she isn’t able to get elemental jutsus, she shouldn’t try genjutsu because if one of those backfires on her, there a high chance she won’t recover. Sakura’s glad she’s stopped trying the genjutsu scrolls before it was too late.  
She trains with Kakashi for an hour, and his teaching style is always cryptic and very him. Look underneath the underneath, and only by the end of the session does she start to understand what digging a hole with her fists and then her fingers is supposed to achieve. Chakra is fluid, and even when working with a hard element like earth, fluidity is what achieves results. She doesn’t get a jutsu that first training session, partially because he refuses to tell her the hand signs until she fully understands the exercise.

     That training session ends, and for the others she always has to search him out. When she finds him, he comes willingly and she isn’t sure if it’s because of guilt at their teammate-less state, or he’s still worried that she’ll start crying without provocation. She hasn’t cried in a while, and if she needs to it won’t be public. Sakura clings to him, and forces his company because he’s the last part of Team 7, and she’ll be damned if she loses him too. She tells him this one time when he tries to avoid her, and after she tells him this, he’s pliant and follows after her, never tries avoiding her again either.

     Second, third, and fourth sessions she doesn’t get the jutsu, and only on the fifth the seals and chakra combine and the earth moves the way she wants it to under her feet. Learning jutsus is hard. She doesn’t have the chakra reserves for more than 5 small jutsus, or 2 large jutsus, but her chakra exercises are slowly, but surely increasing her reserves. Kakashi’s face when she hits him with a stream of water (another jutsu he teaches her, a precursor to the water dragon she’s seen him perform), albeit going slowly and not the high speed it would evolve to become, is so shocked, dripping water, that she bursts out in a laugh that she hasn’t heard herself emit in weeks.

     When she gets 2 earth jutsus and 2 water jutsus, Kakashi throws her a katana, and starts her on basic swordplay. She’s shit. The practice sword is heavy and the length is awkward. She isn’t able to spar with him, but her passive attempts at the kata forms envision that someday this skill might save her life.

* * *

 

     When Kakashi, in the middle of a training session, tells her that he’s back on rotation, that he’s picked up the mask, she freezes in the middle of a kata and feels like the floor has been pulled out from under her, and she’s in free fall. It’s ANBU, no one gets out of ANBU completely sane. Not without an extensive support network, a network she knows Kakashi does not have. He’s the only one left of his team, his mentor is dead, two thirds of his new team have left. She’s read up on him, bribed the chuunin at the library desk with rice balls to look at the ninja files. It was a stretch whether he would let her look at them or not, but he’s been seeing her a lot and she’s always careful with the scrolls, and anything that she wouldn’t be allowed to see would’ve been blacked out, he gets free rice balls too.

     In Kakashi’s file she finds that most of the information has been left blank. There’s his birthday, which she remembers for future planning, his ninja status as jounin instructor and ages at which he’s reached ninja milestones. There she learns that her sensei is one goddamn prodigal ninja, and isn’t as lazy as he is. Look underneath the underneath. Maybe she should try that a bit more.

     There’s also a small section dedicated to his team. She reads (Nohora Rin (deceased), Uchiha Obito (deceased), jounin instructor: Namikaze Minato (deceased)), and then she’s sad. He has no one, she has no one. He’ll go into ANBU, emerge a different man, maybe even never emerge, die on the ANBU roster.

     That’s just, sad. They’re all alone, so they might as well be alone together. She doesn’t want her last connection to die either, she knows she won’t handle his death.

     Sakura drops her practice katana, and storms up to the new Hokage’s office who she has yet to meet (great first impression Sakura). When she forces open the door with everything she has, she has to blanch. The new Hokage, a busty young woman with blonde hair in low pigtails and amber eyes is somewhat of a god figure to her. Sakura has read about her, been awed by her, and now immediately recognizes her as the legendary Tsunade. Great first impression Sakura, really.

     “Why is Kakashi-sensei going back on the ANBU roster?!” She exclaims, striding up to the new Hokage’s paperwork laden desk. Tsunade looks at the pink haired ball of fury in front of her and only raises an eyebrow at the unannounced entrance.

     “If you have a complaint, fill it out with the chuunin downstairs. I’m too busy for this,” Tsunade says and looks back down at her paperwork, wishing that she could open her new desk and chug some sake hidden there to take the edge off.

     “No.” Sakura says, shaking her head. Her fists are clenched and Tsunade can see the slight tremor. “I need an answer,”

     Tsunade sighs, “ANBU is understaffed, has been for a while. Kakashi offered. I approved, it’s nothing personal,”

     “It most definitely is personal, I will not lose him too.” Tsunade can see the fire burning in Sakura’s eyes, and her interest peaks. “My teammates are gone and Kakashi is all I have left, do not take him from me.” Sakura is just about ready to scream as her eyes grow hot, when Tsunade shakes her head, this time a bit remorseful.

     “You’re Haruno Sakura, aren’t you, the last genin of Team 7?”

     “Don’t say it like that.” Sakura bites out, anger winning over manners. “They’re not dead.” Tsunade’s eyebrows shoot up at the blatant disrespect to her superior.

     “Watch your tongue, girl. I’m already letting it slide that you barged in here with no forewarning and are demanding things from me.” Sakura bites her tongue and doesn’t answer. Great first impression. She doesn’t want to lose her nerve again in front of the new Hokage, who she knows can push her with a finger and Sakura will fly through the walls.

     “The Uchiha, lead by Sasuke’s older brother, are trying everything to get him back. He will come back. Naruto will be back, after he returns with Jiraiya.” Tsunade reaches into her desk, bypasses the jug of sake and hands Sakura a letter. “Here, he left a letter, but didn’t know where to give it to you, the dolt,”

     Sakura takes the letter, and with shaky hands then and there reads it. It’s filled with sloppy handwriting and what she assumes to be ramen splotches, but the letter itself is filled with hope. When she finishes reading, her eyes are hot. She blames her tears on her weak emotional state, not the letter from a person who genuinely likes her however she is. That sweet poor boy who didn’t want to leave her, but needed to to help them, to help Team 7, to help the whole village that ostracized him for no reason. She pockets the letter quickly, and even with her new knowledge doesn’t falter.

     “Kakashi-sensei.”

     “I cannot do anything Sakura. All I can tell you is to stay patient and wait for them to comeback. They will. I’m sure Hatake can still go on a C-rank or two with you while on vacations.”  
The only reason Kakashi would take vacations is for injuries. His lazy demeanor is a goddamn lie, she knows this. He wouldn’t take a vacation if it wasn’t forced on him by the hands of bureaucracy. Kakashi’s a damn good ninja, so if he’s getting injured, it won’t be for a broken bone, he’ll be beaten and bled within an inch of his life, and that only happens when hedgehogs fly.

     The threat of losing Kakashi strikes her with a daring, almost stubborn streak, that she’s sure hasn’t thought through. When she voices her impulsive idea, it’s the last thing Tsunade expects.

     “Train me.” Sakura says, and Tsunade suddenly wants another jug to be in her gut because dear god why is she in Konoha? because of her godson. Jesus she needs less pushy family.

     “What?”

     “You heard me. Train me to be a medic.” Sakura says, and clutches to her determination. It’ll wither soon, as soon as she’s rejected she’s gonna crash.

     “You can become a medic nin by studying at the hospital. Why should I train you?” Tsunade turns an eye towards the girl grasping at something, anything to hold on to, anything to stay alive, to keep her teammates alive.

     “I will not fall behind. Sasuke is off galavanting with Orochimaru, getting stronger. Naruto is off with Jiraiya, training, getting stronger. I want to train under you, so I can protect my teammates when they get back. So I can protect Kakashi-sensei when he’s on ‘vacations’.” Sakura takes a deep breath, and the fire in her green eyes is imploring, Tsunade considers. “I will not lose my precious people from my weakness.”

     “What can you do?” Tsunade asks, and no longer is she weary from the paperwork on her desk, but interested. It throws Sakura off, but she’s quick to regain her composure.

     “I have good chakra control. I’ve read all the texts in the library allowed on medicine, I’ve been training with Kakashi in swordplay I know 4 jutsus. I also train in taijutsu with Lee and Guy in the mornings.”

     “Good chakra control?” Tsunade asks, one eyebrow raising in disbelief, “You’ll need more than good chakra control to be a medic, you need perfect chakra control for me to even think about you starting to heal.” Tsunade says, appraising the girl in front of her. “Are you saying you have perfect chakra control?”

     Sakura has to bite her cheek before replying “Maybe not now, but I will. I won’t fail.”

     “Name the four lobes of the brain.”

     “What?”

     “Four lobes of the brain Sakura, I do not have all day.”

     “Frontal, Parietal, Occipital, Temporal,”

     “How many essential amino acids are there?”

     “9,”

     “Name the body systems.”

     “Nervous system, respiratory system, renal system, skeletal, muscular, lymphatic, circulatory… reproductive, digestive, endocrine, uhm, integumentary!” The reading pays off and inner Sakura is relieved.

     The questions keep getting harder and harder, and Sakura had to pause more, guess more, until the questions get impossibly hard on the specialized stuff she hadn’t even thought to consider, and all she was left to do is reply with a solid ‘I don’t know.’

     Slowly her inability to answer Tsunade’s questions get to her, and her lack of knowledge makes her fingers tick. Eventually, Tsunade lets up, and sighs.

     “Training Ground 5, 7 am sharp.”

     Tsunade’s statement knocks Sakura out from her intellectual daze. “You’ll take me on?!”

     “It’s not going to be a walk in the park Sakura. I will push you until you can no longer walk, lift your arms, or even think. If you do not succeed I will drop you immediately. I will not waste my time.”

     “I won’t fail you.” Sakura says, and Tsunade is pleased to see the spark of the something she saw when Sakura came in grow more permanent behind her eyes.

     “Good, now get out of my office. And tell Hatake to stop loitering, god knows he’s a better ninja than that.”

     Sakura turns and leaves with a laugh, dragging Kakashi behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, i am a SLUT for reviews, tell me what you think??!!


	3. and night was not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3! originally the second half of chapter 2 but it was too long and now its too short ahhh,  
> well, at least i double updated lmao  
> ALSO i took some creative liberties, here! ( chap title dantes inferno)

     It’s 5 minutes to 7 when Sakura shows up to Training Ground 5. She didn’t train with Lee or Guy today so she can show Tsunade the magnitude of her strength, as small as it is.

     Tsunade shows up exactly at 7, and with a brief, relatively dead sounding greeting, proceeds to punch the living daylights out of her.

     “First rule.” Tsunade says, feeling a bit more energetic as she watches Sakura struggle to push herself up, her breathing harsh and ragged. “Dodge.”

     In the first few minutes of this drill, Sakura has learned the lesson well, and at Tsunade’s words and quickly incoming punch force her senses and reflexes to take a spin at Sakura’s body and make sure she doesn’t die. She dodges the first punch and it’s a great feeling of victory in that split second before she gets hit with the second one.

     By the end of training, she’s evaded a total of 30 hits in the span of 3 hours. She’s ready to hear Tsunade sigh and tell her she’s no good, and when she stops the onslaught of attacks Sakura looks up, her mouth bloodied and her eyes guarded.

     “Not too shabby, could be better though.” The training ground around them is destroyed. There is no even ground, and deep craters line the small path of escape that Sakura’s made for herself. “Come here.” She says, and Sakura forces her weakened knees to stand.

     She walks close to Tsunade, and the blonde woman is pleased to see the tenseness of her limbs as Sakura’s eyes flick periodically to her arms and shoulders to see any oncoming attack. Tsunade brings her hands up, and smirks with Sakura jumps back a good meter.

     “Come back you little wench, physical training is over for today, I’m trying to fix up what you couldn’t dodge.” 

     Sakura steps back up, and watches as green chakra fills up Tsunade’s palms. Too weak to move now that Tsunade’s ended the session, she just stares blankly at the green chakra swirling around her fingertips. Her first chakra healing, huh. 

     When Tsunade’s hands come up to settle on her shoulder, Sakura has to force herself not to flinch at the foreign chakra resetting her bones. She feels each pulse of Tsunade’s chakra as it first calibrates itself to her chaka frequency, and then feels, just barely, as the chakra works to pull back the muscles that tore during the session. The slight lag of Tsunade’s chakra in response to hers feels strange. Strange to a point when the lag begins to get so great that she begins to feel nauseous as the beat frequency forces a distinct, uncomfortable, almost dissociating feeling of foreign chakra into her body. When Tsunade is done with her shoulder, the worst of her injuries, Sakura succumbs to the nausea and collapses to her knees, vomiting into one of the craters.

     “Is it always that nauseating?” Sakura asks as she stops retching and looks up. Tsunade is looking down at her with a furrow in her brows.

     “It shouldn’t be. What made you vomit?”

     “The beat frequency.” Sakura says as she sits up on her heels and wipes her mouth.

     “You felt it?” Tsunade asks, disbelief making its way into her tone.

     “I don’t know how other people  _ don’t _ ,” God she’s weak, even now. Sakura swears, only half paying attention to Tsunade’s expression. She rolls her shoulder back experimentally.

     “Sakura it takes a highly trained chakra manipulator to catch fluctuations like that. People don’t vomit because the beat frequency is too small to induce a  feeling of nausea, let alone full on vomiting.” Sakura stills herself, doesn’t let the implied compliment affect her, she can’t ride that high.

     “I’m positive that my chakra frequency was nearly identical to yours. Another shinobi wouldn’t have felt anything but a brief feeling of warmth and being full in the area being treated.”  Tsunade was suddenly very grateful that the pink haired girl had asked her to train her. Such strong chakra detection was very rare.

     “That did not feel like I was just full, and warm.” Sakura said, shaking her head, and shuddering at the leftover memory of being healed. “It was more like intense nausea, followed by dissociation as my chakra wasn’t sure what to do with your chakra masquerading as mine.” Tsunade was silent for a minute, and studied the pink haired girl in front of her as she clasped her hands behind her back.

     “Well I’ll guarantee that if you go to a lower level medic, you’ll do worse than vomit.” Sakura shuddered at the implication “You’ll need to learn to heal yourself then as soon as possible to avoid inopportune vomiting sessions if you’re ever out on the field as a non medic in a cell.” Sakura nods, she’ll learn to heal.

     “Go down to the hospital, find Shizune, she’s my other apprentice who’s been with me for a long time. She’ll be in charge of some of your training. Find her and have her put you to work. Tell her to give you some of the medical scrolls, specifically on flesh wounds. We’ll be starting you off on level 1 health issues.” Sakura was nodding.

     “I trust you remember what healing chakra felt like?” Tsunade asked and laughed at Sakura’s expression.

     “I do Tsunade-sama.”

     “Ooh, don’t call me that, makes me feel old,”

     “Sorry, Tsunade-shishou,”

     “Good, try to replicate that and show me what you have at the end of the day, I’ll be stopping by the hospital later. Getting chakra is the easiest part, matching it to each patient is what requires the chakra control.” 

     “Tomorrow at 7 again?” Sakura asks, and Tsunade hums in assent.

     “Yes, now scram, I need to go fight with some elders,” She says and stalks off towards the Hokage tower.

     Despite the protest from her muscles and the spin of her head from the vomit, as soon as Tsunade disappears from view, Sakura pumps her fist into the air, letting out a shout of glee.

* * *

     When Sakura finally makes it to the hospital, it’s after just after 10:30. Her muscles had protested from any movement as the adrenaline started to fade, and moving was agony as she had to painfully maneuver herself at a snail pace towards the hospital. There, she tracks up to the nurses station, and as politely as she could muster, asks one of the less stressed looking women for Shizune. The nurse who asks was a relatively short young woman, brown hair twisted in a braid and bangs framing her face, she couldn’t have been older than Sakura by 4 years.

     “Shizune-sama? She’s currently in surgery sweetheart, you’ll have to see a nurse for your injuries.”

     “No no! I’m not here for my injuries, Tsunade-shishou sent me here to train with Shizune-sama,” She used the honorific the nurse had used.

     “Sure sure sweetheart, if you say so, go sit in one of the benches and wait for a nurse to come look at you.” The young nurse looked close to laughing, her gaze disbelieving that a pink haired little girl with no presence could be a student of the Hokage. Her tone is condescending. Sakura has to restrain from strangling the woman, and after giving her a flat smile, she goes and sits on one of the benches. After a few minutes, Sakura sees the nurse leave, and immediately leaves her bench spot. She walks up to another nurse, and switches tactics. 

    “Yes sweetheart?” The nurse noticed her.

     “I have a message for Shizune-sama from Hokage-sama,” Sakura said, “I’m supposed to hand it to her in person, could you direct me to her office?” It’s no new thing to not be taken seriously, so she might as well play herself down to achieve results, she hates doing that. Makes her feel useless.

     The nurse looks her over, and her eyes pause on her hitai-ate. “Yes, of course, Shizune-sama is in surgery at the moment, but her office is on the third floor, down the hall, last door to the left.” 

     Sakura bowed, and made her escape. When she found Shizune’s office, she knocked just in case. When she receives no response, she quickly slips her way inside, deciding that since she was here she might as well not waste her time. The office space didn’t disappoint. Behind the desk there’s a giant bookcase spanning the length of the opposing wall. At seeing it, and noticing that the only topic was medical, she sat down, and remembering what Tsunade had wanted her to read, pulled out a few most relevant scrolls, her notebook, and a pen, and sitting down on the couch, got to work.

     It was a few hours later that she was finally knocked out of her book haze at the sound of the door to the office slamming open. Sakura quickly stood up, and grimaced at the mess of scrolls around her. Seeing who she assumed to be Shizune, she bowed.

     “Shizune-sama, my name is Haruno Sakura, Tsunade-shishou told me to come to your office for scrolls and further medical instruction!” she raised her head, and noticed at the dead look that Shizune was sending her.

     “Sakura was it?” Shizune asked, and gave a big yawn. “Don’t call me Shizune-sama, Sakura-chan, all the nurses do and it’s really strange. Shizune-san is fine.” she says and all but collapses onto the couch next to her. 

     “I just finished a long surgery, some idiot ANBU decided explosions were cool, so I had to dig out every piece of melted plastic out of him.” Shizune murmured, her eyes already closing. “I’m quite chakra depleted, so I’m going to take a nap. I see you’ve found the scrolls, keep reading them, and when I wake up we’ll test what you’ve learned.” After finishing the sentence, Shizune is out.

     When she wakes 2 hours later, Sakura has gotten an incredibly late lunch for the both of them, out of gratitude, and necessity; she’d read that chakra depletion was most quickly cured by the consumption of food and rest. She had already finished her meal, and was now sitting on the floor by the couch, the medical scrolls piled in a circle around her. With a groan Shizune sits up.

     “How long was I out?”

     “Two hours Shizune-san,” Sakura replies, not bothering to look up from her scroll, there was a catchy bit of theory that refused to unravel, and she refused to let it beat her. “I took the liberty of bringing lunch,” she says, and Shizune ruffles her hair while standing up.

     “I won’t mind keeping you around then, Sakura-chan.” 

     After she's eaten, Shizune sits up, her demeanor changing as she finally takes in the medical scrolls lying around her teacher’s newest apprentice. Sakura feels the air in the room change, and was then on guard.

     “Skin layers, what are they?” 

     “Epidermis, Dermis, Subcutaneous tissue/Hypodermis,”

     “Major arteries.”

     And off she went. Sakura recited what she had learned, both from her own studies at home, and the new information from the vastly more specific, and if she’s honest, more interesting texts from Shizune’s office. The barrage of questions goes on for 15 minutes, and when Shizune finally calls a stop, she smiles approvingly, and Sakura relaxes.

     “Very good Sakura-chan, you’ll need to look over your notes on some of the coronary branches, as well as the finer points on enzyme function and the thermochemistry involved, especially in speeding DNA transcription… but otherwise, not bad.” Sakura bites back a satisfied grin, and makes a few more notes in her notebook on the critique.

     “I wasn’t able to find anymore scrolls under level 1 health risks, or scrolls that I could recognize to be a part of the category, could you show me the rest?” Sakura asks, picking from the her giant pile of scrolls the ones she needed to review.

     “Hmm, yes, but once we come up from downstairs. I need to do rounds, and teach you the ropes.”

     “Hospital work already?” Sakura asks,

     “What did you think? Tsunade was going to let you be a bookworm all day?” Sakura tries not to shake her head. Shizune still laughs. “No, no, the best way to learn is practice, and we’re going to start you off with the basics. Let’s go down.”

     Sakura gathers the scrolls into her pouch and the rest back into the bookshelf, and stumbles after Shizune, her legs stiff from sitting too long, and using them for too long.

     “What do the basics entail?” She asks, as Shizune walks up to the nurse’s station, and grabs a stack of charts.

     “We’ll start you off on basic patient care, that means updating charts, changing bedpans, sheets, robes, inserting IVs, giving medication, bringing food to those who can stomach it, and cleaning up for the people who can’t.”

     Sakura has to gulp at the prospect of vomit. 

     “Do you do all of this stuff too, Shizune-san?” she asks, her voice almost wavering.

     “Oh no, most of that works falls to the civilian nurses, and some of the chakra wielding nurses as well if there’s an influx of patients. Mostly the chakra wielding nurses work in the clinic, and help out in team healing sessions. The higher level doctors are with patients that are admitted, and are mostly in charge of their healing process, and some surgeries, while I am responsible for the more strenuous and complicated healing sessions, as well as most, if not all surgeries. Tsunade-sama does the complicated surgeries that even I do not have the chakra control to complete, and sometimes takes on patients by request.”

     “Does that mean that as soon as I’m able to actively use medical chakra I’ll be able to work in the clinic, and not change bedpans and clean vomit?” Sakura asks desperately.

     “You catch on quick, Sakura-chan,” Shizune smiles at the younger girl’s almost horrified expression. “Now, first patient, let’s go!”

* * *

      After rounds, which were a whole new ride, filled with grumpy civilians and skittish ninja, Shizune places Sakura into a room with a scroll, a recently deceased fish, and left to take care of a scheduled surgery.

     “I’ll get you the other scrolls later!” Is Shizune’s parting remark.

     Sakura’s objective, as Shizune had told her, was to heal the giant laceration on the fish’s stomach, the cause of death, coincidentally. Muster up the medical chakra, work around or with the natural chakra of the fish, and using your previously learned knowledge, mess with enzymes and recently dead flesh to put it back together. 

     After about an hour of trying to force chakra to turn into the green she had seen Tsunade use, (and not vomit at the memory of the nausea from feeling foreign chakra off of her own frequency), she finally gets it. Her chakra had sparked, and finally, it was a visible, medical green, pulsing to the beat of her own heart. After marveling the green slipping through her fingertips, she places her hands on the fish and concentrates. There was no living chakra to match her frequency to, and that was proving to be a problem. There was residual nature chakra imbued in the cells of the fish, but accessing that chakra, and using those small amounts to promote growth sounded much easier on paper, than in practice. 

     Sakura could see, in her mind’s eye the cells she was trying to target, and the location of the chakra that would force the cells to divide, but every time she reached out with her chakra to push against the barrier holding the chakra back, the fish would jump in her hands and she’d lose her concentration. The harsh dissonance of her chakra and the fish’s natural chakra was causing it to jerk up and away from the discord. She had to find a way to make this work, by the end of today; she did not want to change bedpans.

     If her chakra and the fish’s natural chakra weren’t mixing, the frequencies must be too different. Sakura notices (after many failed attempts) that her chakra’s higher tempo causes chakra to enter through that barrier accessing the fish’s chakra, but she was unable to control it beyond the barrier. It was like a black hole, pulling all of her chakra. The size of the barrier increased, but it seemed unlikely that it would break, and if it would Sakura definitely did not have enough chakra to cause that. She thinks.

     If this was similar to the diffusion of water… She needed to slow down her own frequency if she wanted it to be indistinguishable from someone else’s. Instead of forcing her hand onto the fish again, she plops herself onto the table next to it, and decides to meditate, and consciously slow down the rate at which chakra was pulsing through her body. Since the fish was dead, the frequency of its chakra would be incredibly little, so she had to make her chakra coils slow down to an almost dead state. It took 20 minutes of forcing her own chakra to cooperate, and stop congregating around her limbs, for it to slow down to an almost imperceptible, impossibly slow pulse. When she opens her eyes, her chakra is slow and languorous. She still has the same amount of energy as before, but no longer did she feel like her usual self, the slowed beat of her chakra left her feeling more fluid, almost slow in the way she could feel it dragging behind her as she slips off the metal table. Her chakra is thick as molasses as she brings up her hands to the fish and once again begins to probe against the cells of the wound. Instead of jolting like it had previously, the fish remained stationary, and the isotonic situation leaves the chakra beyond accessible to her, giving Sakura with an influx of energy hers to mould.  Sakura had to bite her tongue to stop herself from pulling away and screaming for the rooftops. She did it, she accessed the chakra, she could fix the fish, oh was she happy.

     Thinking back on her notes from the morning, and slowly, ever so carefully she sent the energy she’d just released into promoting the regeneration of new skin and scales, and after 15 minutes, with a third of her chakra gone, she had healed a 10 centimeter gash.

     She released the fish, and let out a hoot of laughter at her success, dancing around with the dead, freshly healed fish in her hands. Her chakra pulse spiked up back to its regular frequency.

     “Sakura, are you alright? We felt a chakra spike,” The door had opened and Shizune peaked her head in, Tsunade stood behind her with a chart in her hands.

     “Shizune-san! Tsunade-shishou!” Sakura yells, dropping the fish on the table and reaching out with her fish slime covered hands to pull both women into the room, showing them the freshly healed fish. 

      “I did it! I matched my chakra frequency to the natural frequency of the cells in the fish and stimulated regeneration!” Sakura couldn’t stop grinning. Tsunade and Shizune examined the fish before them, both grudgingly impressed with the speed at which the pink haired genin had managed to utilize the Mystical Palm Technique.

      “Good,” Tsunade says, only now registering the method that Sakura had used to restore the fish. “We’ll start you on bigger wounds then,”  
“Wait, you _matched_ your chakra frequency to that of a _dead_ _fish? Already?”_ Shizune asks.

      “Yes… Was that not...?” Sakura’s elation is slowly fading as she took in Shizune’s expression. This is why she shouldn’t bask in compliments. Shizune quickly took in the pink haired girls worry.

     “Oh, no! No! It’s just--Already?!”

     Tsunade nodded as well. “You did show your startling perception of chakra frequencies, I wasn’t aware that to that we can also add a giant frequency malleability range, even Shizune had to work for weeks to get that cut healed.” Tsunade says, with Shizune nodding right after her.

     “It’s good! I’m really proud, Sakura!”

     Sakura almost doesn’t know what to do with herself. While she’s used to being praised for her academic achievements, she’s never been truly praised in a ninja art. There’s a swelling of hope growing in her chest as she looks at her two new teachers.

     “Well you’re starting off really well at the theoretical side, we can’t have you being overconfident. That’s rule number 2 by the way; Do not overestimate yourself.” Tsunade pokes at the fish. “Who knew you would get the fish healed by the end of the day.” 

     At that moment, Sakura starts laughing again, her physical exhaustion, as well as emotional as she’s been exposed to so many new people just in today, catching up to her. Both Tsunade and Shizune’s faces turn up in exasperated amusement at her mirth.

     “Does this mean I don’t need to switch bedpans or clean vomit?” Sakura asks after catching her breath. Tsunade and Shizune share a look, and in unison say.

     “Hell, no! Everyone got bedpan duty when they were younger, you don’t get to magically skip it!” And at Sakura’s horrified expression, burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weLL there hello, tis I, i love feedback thnx ilu  
> also next chapter next sunday, it is decidedly not as happy as the previous two!!  
> tell me what u think!! (also if an author tells you they dont stalk the progress of their fic for 24hrs after an update they are LIARS)


	4. the hollowed blackness of that waste, god wot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from .. ya guessed it dantes inferno  
>  im gonna go out and say that all of the chap titles r dantes inferno  
> also hello, by my time im around 1.5 hrs late, oops, plz enjoy!!!!  
> also just as a note, next weeks chap will either be a little late (like by a day) or a little early (by a day) bcz i will be traveling all day sunday! and who knows if internet exists  
> itachi is introduced next chapter, and shit sorta starts looking up lol  
> also this was posted from my phone, so if there r any format issues i sincerely apologize

     A week into her apprenticeship, Tsunade presents her with a thick scroll, and Shizune’s warnings that Tsunade is tricky when it comes to alcohol come true.

     “This is a blank diagram.” Tsunade says, and waits for Sakura to unlock it. “The diagram shows the human body, and several different layers,” She pulls down several thin films, “Skin layer, Muscle Layer, Nerve Layer, Bone Layer, Internal organs, Chakra pathways, all the like, body systems.

     “Your job while studying under me, is to fill out every single layer.”

     “Every single layer?” Sakura asks, flipping through the different blank diagrams and considering what she knows and can already fill in after a week.

     “Yes, you can see there’s only an outline. You’ll need to draw in the systems yourself.”

     “How specific?” Sakura asks, glancing up from her perusal through the diagrams, already thinking through mapping the circulatory system.

     “Specific enough that by the end of your apprenticeship this can be used as an accurate medical text for a younger student.”

     That isn’t stressful at all. Sakura gulps.

     “Good, you seem properly prepared. Once you’ve filled everything in to completion, and written accompanying scrolls and diagrams for the sections too small to see... As well as written out every known ailment to that section of the body, you’re apprenticeship will be complete.”

     “How long should this take?” Sakura asks.

     “Around 2-3 years, you seem like a quick study.” Tsunade replies, and gestures towards the bookshelf across from her desk. “Now that I have you busy, mind getting me that jug behind ‘How to manage your Time’ and ‘Planning! For Idiots’?”

     Sakura walks towards the shelf and rests her fingers against the texts. They look to be brand new yet untouched based on the dust on the glossy jackets and stiff spines. “These?”

     “Yes, just pull them out.” Tsunade nods and leans forward onto her desk. Sakura obliges and pulls out the two texts to see a nondescript jug behind them. Tsunade chuckles and leans forward even more.

     “Yup, that’s the jug--,” Tsunade pitches her voice so that it seems like she’s speaking to someone in a different room. “--Can’t hide it from me forever, Shizune!” and laughs and makes grabby motions towards the jug now in Sakura’s hands. Sakura uncorks the bottle and takes a whiff.

     “Shishou, I’m not allowed to give you this…”

     “Did Shizune get to you already?!” Tsunade asks looking almost horrified.

     “One of the first things she told me to do is keep the sake away from you during working hours!” She exclaims as Tsunade grimaces.

     “It’s good sake, Land of Rice Fields, South Province near the mountains. The water is from a deep spring, expensive. The perfect pick me up before a meeting with the Senior Council in half an hour."

     "Tsunade-shishou--!” Sakura is outraged and rightly so.

     “If you give me the jug and don’t tell Shizune I’ll clear you for participating in rounds instead of observing and starting at the clinic with a supervisor,” Tsunade barters and Sakura slams the jug onto her desk. Tsubade grins and pours herself a cup.

     “Should you really be drinking before a meeting?” Sakura asks, but her protests are weak. She wants to start healing people, actual people, not fishes and squirrels.

     “Eh, don’t worry Sakura, I do this all the time and we haven’t started a war yet, have we?”

     Sakura only stares in resigned disbelief. Tsunade answers for her. “Ne we have not, now go find Shizune and force her to teach you about poisons, she’s the expert. And don’t tell her about the sake!”

     Bewildered, Sakura shakes her head and leaves the blonde’s office.

* * *

 

     In this manner Sakura’s training under Tsunade progresses rapidly. She doesn’t have much time to improve in her other skills like her swordplay, or jutsu work with Kakashi, but that’s mostly because the Hospital is taking a good chunk of her time and because he’s off on confidential ANBU missions. She’s never sure when he leaves or how long he’s going for, or when he returns, and that dedicates another chunk of her brain spent on worrying. Sakura doesn’t know if it’s normal that he’s gone for 4 weeks straight or if it's not, and flesh flies and beetles have already made short work of him. Each morning she wakes with the hope that there’s a sticky note plastered in her window with a time (always never interfering with her tri-weekly training sessions with Lee and Guy in the mornings, always never in her time with Tsunade, and always never at her time at the hospital) and training ground number where he’d try to teach her something. When the sticky note isn’t there, it’s another drop of stress on her mind, something to tense her shoulders at and distract her. Her remaining precious person who’s there for her and trying, eaten by maggots. Her off days aren’t fun.

     With Tsunade her evasive ability skyrockets, and her studies of the human body and medical chakra don’t make her weaker than a civilian and after a few weeks Sakura feels alright admitting to herself that she’s a genin.

     It’s also a few weeks after Sakura starts training under Tsunade that she collapses. It’s chakra exhaustion, no surprise there. Her reserves are growing, and they’re bigger than a freshly graduated academy student’s, so when she has progressed to level 3 injuries, burns and everything but intensive care, she’s allowed to work in the clinic without nurse supervision. She gives it her all and heals everyone she can, and when a nurse tells her to stop or she’s collapse, the feeling that she’s not doing enough, not doing it well enough, isn’t of any use if she can't finish a shift creeps up on her in a way it hasn’t in awhile. The quick progression of her training under Tsunade has left her confident in a way she hasn’t felt in years. Only in her childhood in sandboxes with Ino by her side has she felt this confidence (at making sandcastles but that’s besides the point). She’s swept away in that feeling and after a polite smile to the elderly nurse looking over her work, continues healing gennin after chuunin after civilian, until her vision goes blurry. She’s never experienced chakra exhaustion before, only knows when her chakra is getting low, so she plows through the feeling, expecting it to pass. After a few breaths of fresh air from the window she takes a few steps towards the door to grab another chart. It’s then that her ears start ringing and shortly after that she pitches forward in a faint.

     The elderly nurse finds her collapsed on the floor after she notices that there’s no activity around Sakura’s assigned clinic room, and calls Tsunade and Shizune. Both find Sakura sitting groggily on the patient table nursing a warm drink the elderly nurse, Suzuki-san, had given her. Sakura’s head spins as she looks up at the noise of the two women entering.

     “Tsunade-shishou, Shizune-san.” She says in greeting, and places her cup on the counter across from her. Both women notice the cup shaking in her grip, Tsunade’s eyes narrow. Sakura is getting ready to stand, chagrin laced in her features at falling in a faint.

     “Sakura.” It’s a warning tone, and the pink haired girl freezes. Shizune feels a pang of sympathy. Tsunade walks towards her with short brisk steps, her hands coating with green chakra. At the appearance of it Sakura sits back down and shrinks away, growing even paler. Shizune grimaces as well, knowing full well how the girl reacts to foreign chakra. Sakura had cut her hand open on a scalpel before she’d been allowed to heal humans, and even with Shizune’s control the girl had looked green and later retched into the nearest waste bin. Shizune is annoyed enough at the girl for overworking to not stop Tsunade.

     “Come here. I need to check you out.” Sakura slowly, ever so slowly submits herself to Tsunade’s fingers, and squeezes her eyes shut as diagnostic chakra runs through her. When it recedes, Tsunade looks less thunderous but her eyes are still narrowed, and her hands move to her hips.

     “I’m sorry Tsunade-shishou,” Sakura says her eyes on a tile slightly to the right of her mentor’s high heeled feet.

     “Chakra exhaustion, Sakura, is not a joke,” Tsunade says and steps back.

     “We’ve had many medics incapacitated by it, and you cannot afford to be consumed by constant chakra exhaustion if you wish to complete your apprenticeship in 2 years.” Sakura winces.

     “Do you know the health risks chakra exhaustion leads to?” Shizune asks, stepping next to Tsunade into lecture mode. Sakura’s response mechanism, even in the beginning stages of her apprenticeship is well oiled and immediately she replies.

     “Stunted growth, underdeveloped chakra coils, disrupted sleep cycle, impairment of mental function, vision, memory...”

     Tsunade and Shizune look pointedly at her and Sakura feels appropriately shunned.

     “If you ever want to increase that puny chakra store you have, yes you have to tax your reserves, but not deplete it completely that you pass out.”

     “By exhausting yourself you are of no use to any patient, and no use to me.” The words are cold as steel, and they squeeze at Sakura’s stomach. She should have worked harder to increase her reserves (hindsight 20/20).

     “I’m sorry,” And before she can restrain herself, (she has to know, she can’t be in the dark that’s how she fails) asks, “Are you going to drop me?”

     She doesn’t look up at the woman in question, whose eyebrows scrunch in confusion (where did that come from?). There’s no response, and Sakura closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in resignation.

     “More than once a month, Haruno, and I will.” Tsunade says, and the wave of relief Sakura feels is enough for her two mentors to visibly see it pass through. Tsunade ruffles Sakura’s hair, and forces her off the patient table. Shizune smiles at her from the doorway as she wobbles a bit before steadying.

    “Go home, drink, eat, sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow 7am training ground 5 as usual.” Sakura nods her assent, counts her lucky stars, and says her goodbyes.

* * *

     When she exits the hospital the burst of chilly evening air makes her wobble. Only now, out of the protective walls of the hospital and the sweet nagging of several nurses who had supervised her before, do the post chakra exhaustion symptoms hit her. As a breeze hits her, goosebumps rise on her covered arms and her teeth begin to chatter. To stave of the cold she starts walking in the direction of her apartment but as soon as she starts moving she’s hit with a dizzy spell and a flash of nausea. She’s starving, and could do well with a glass of water. Pausing for a minute to gather her wits in her tired state, she notices Chouji, newly chuunin minted Shikamaru, and Ino exiting a restaurant.

     She had finally gotten the guts (and mental preparation to talk about her teammates) to talk to Ino a few days prior, and it went better than expected.

     When she arrived at the flowershop on her day off, Ino was manning the shop and flipping through a magazine. The cover was familiar, _Kunoichi Digest_. Sakura never understood why Ino followed every advice column or swore by the products recommended. The magazine wasn’t even written by an active kunoichi, but by one who had retired years ago.

     When the bell at the door rings to announce her entrance, Ino immediately raises her head with a retail smile and begins her standard greeting, but as soon as she sees Sakura the smile fades into a grimace and she turns away, crossing her arms.

     “You’ve got some nerve showing up here, Forehead. What do you want?” She asks in a gruff done that speaks of hurt and disapproval. Sakura is still glad that she’s Forehead and not just Sakura. There’s still hope yet; She has to make this right.

     “I want to talk, and buy some flowers,” Sakura says and pulls out the stool that Sakura has sat on since she was little from behind a ficus. This was their main hangout spot once they grew out of the sandbox; Ino behind the register, a show of working, and Sakura on a stool on the customer side of the counter. Nostalgia hits her, of simpler times and warm summers and a full house. She can tell it hits Ino too, from the way her grimace softens and she picks up her magazine again.

     “Well then talk, and then buy something,” Ino says and flips to a page on diamond strength nail polish. Sakura struggles with how to start. Ino is the one who has always started conversations, Sakura had only listened and nodded along. Now is a chance for her to change the dynamic and here she is, not changing it, waiting for Ino to start.

     “How are you?” Is blurted out before Sakura had a chance to reformulate. Ino looks at her from one blond, raised eyebrow.

     “Good. As one can be when their best friend hasn’t visited for months and then ignored them when they next met.” Ino isn’t bitter, and Sakura winces, remembering her first excursion from her house after her parents’ death. She still hasn’t seen their graves.

     “I’m sorry Ino,” Sakura says, and she really is. Now that she’s stronger, less weak, she’s going to keep her precious people. “I had some stuff to sort through, especially with Sasuke…” She isn’t ready to admit their deaths to anyone, not yet. If she says it’s final, it’s not a dream, and they aren’t away on a long business trip. Denial is a blissful feeling.

     “You still like him?” Ino asks, “After he went and abandoned his village for a creep like Orochimaru?” Ino scoffs

     “I--,” Sakura hasn’t thought about it. Maybe she does? Does she? If he came back at this moment and asked her on a date, would she say yes? The taste of humiliation of being left behind without a good explanation stings, and Sakura knows.

     “No, not anymore,”

     Ino nods her head, “Me neither, what’s up with that by the way, who leaves the strongest village to get stronger? Especially when he has the Sharingan, like?” Ino makes an expression and gesture that says ‘wtf? why?’ and Sakura nods her head in agreement. She hadn’t thought of that… Kakashi had said that he wanted to be stronger than his brother…

     “Anyway, because he left his fan base has totally grown,”

     “Wait really? He’s not even here,”

     “I know! I swear it's almost bigger than his brother's!" Ino exclaims, slamming her magazine onto the counter. “There are so many girls coming in and buying flowers and sending them to the Uchiha Compound to ‘make a good impression to the clan’ so they see what good brides they’d be!”

     “No way,”

     “Yes! I’ve made more than half of those deliveries myself, it’s annoying! And every time a group comes in, they’re all talking about going on more missions or even fricking becoming kunoichi, just so they can persuade him using their ‘womanly charms’ to come back!”

     At Sakura’s disgusted grimace, Ino nods with fervor. “Their words, not mine, Forehead. Every time someone comes in and tells me about him it makes me want to gag!”

     “Maybe you should tone down the gossip tree, Ino-Pig, if it’s bothering you so much,”

     The look Ino gives her is priceless. “That would be a travesty! How am I supposed to be a good spy and interrogator if I don't even have my own _gossip network_! Ridiculous, Forehead!”  
Sakura bursts out in giggles, and Ino quickly follows. She feels light, carefree, and her previous grievances are pushed to the back of her mind. With Ino it’s easy to talk about Sasuke, to laugh, because this is familiar, this is them. Ino was there for her in the beginning, and Sakura is damned if she won’t make sure Ino is with her until the end. She hasn’t left, and Sakura is hit with a powerful wave of gratitude and adoration towards the girl in front of her. Sakura will cherish this friendship, she won’t let Ino go. She’ll protect her with everything she has.

     “So, I heard that you’re apprenticed to the new Hokage,” Ino says slyly as the giggles fade. “Not bad, Forehead, moving up in the world,”

     Sakura lets out snort and tells Ino about her last few weeks.

     When she needs to leave and buy food, Sakura pulls through on her promise to buy some flowers. She can’t decide on any particular flower, and instead takes a potted ficus. Ino forces her to take it without pay, and that’s when Sakura knows that she’s fixed it.

     “Take the goddamn ficus, Sakura,”

     “Ino, I should really pay, it’s a ficus,”

     “And you’ll set it outside of your door and put your key in it and get robbed, come on Sakura take the ficus!”

     “It’s expensive!”

     “And you’ll pay me back by paying for lunch next Saturday when we go shopping,”

     “Ino,”

     “Sakura."

     And that’s how she ends up walking home with a ficus.

* * *

 

     Now a few days later when she’s dizzy and nauseous and hungry, and really not in her right mind, she needs to get home. She likes her friends, loves Ino, but she’s bone tired. Ino ks the first to notice her.

     “We better still be on for shopping on Saturday, Forehead!” Ino chirps out as she passes, and Sakura grins, replying affirmative. She draws her arms closer to herself to stave off the chill. Home, water, food, bed. Survive the conversation. Home, water, food, bed.

     “Of course, Ino-pig. You didn’t let me pay for the damned ficus,”  
Ino laugh, full of mirth and food and good company, her team staying together despite the difference in rank. That sends a pang of sadness through her.

     “I have to head home, early start tomorrow. I’ll see you guys later, Chouji, Shikamaru.” Both say their respective goodbyes, and she walks as quickly as she can without keeling over in the direction of her apartment. She had almost lost her apprenticeship, she hadn’t practiced enough, and she’d gotten chakra exhaustion. She doesn’t have teammates, or parents. That’s nice, what a great day.

     “Don’t be late for Saturday, Forehead! And stop being so anti-social! Hang out with us once in awhile,” Ino calls out, and Sakura turns around, albeit distractedly (she wants to go home, she can’t let herself be happy right now, she’s failed today), and responds with a laugh and a wave.

     The ache in every limb and her own consuming thoughts make her zone out. Chakra exhaustion is not a pain she can liken to anything she’s experienced before, but by reports she’s read, it’s what a hangover feels like. Her head is steadily pounding, and her mouth is dry, it hurts to move her legs, and as she’s analyzing these symptoms and how weak (weakweakweak) she loses herself. She comes back into awareness when she’s in front of a door.

     It’s her old house, and it’s empty. It’s the house she spent her childhood in with her parents, but now, it’s newly reconstructed. She hadn’t wanted to move back into it, it’s too big for her alone, so she gave it to a real estate agent to handle. She remembers passing the ‘FOR SALE’ sign in the garden. The pleasant feelings she might have had dissipate, and she feels like a gaping hole; a wound she’s trying to suture but it’s messy and there’s not enough skin to sew back together, blood seeps out. She doesn’t cry--she’s shed all of the tears she could for them in the first few weeks--but sits down in front of the door and stares. It’s not the same door, it’s not even the same color, and the welcome mat isn’t even the same one her parents had, but she remembers walking through this door and seeing her parents. Her mother in the kitchen, her father reading on the counter next to her. They were content with silence, the only sounds would be the crackle and bubble of whatever Mother had on the stove, and the soft slide of paper as Father flipped the pages in either a book or a newspaper. Every now and then, Mother would twist around and offer him a preview of whatever was for dinner that night. Papa always smiled and let Mama do whatever she wanted. After he swallowed she would lean in a give him a kiss, quick and chaste, as gratitude. Sakura wishes, with everything she has, that she could go back to that. Solitude settles on her like a thick, thick woolen blanket, interwoven with strands of grief that make it hard for her to breathe.

     There’s a quiet thump behind her and a hand on her shoulder. Sakura jerks, and when she flips around, she’s relieved that it’s Kakashi. She hasn’t seen him in a while, and a bit of stress melts off at seeing him alive and to her knowledge unharmed.

     “Kakashi-sensei,--” She says, standing up. She’s dawdled too long here thinking of memories long gone, she needs home (that is her home, an empty shell of a home of just herself to fill it with, it’s not enough, she’s alone), water, food, bed,“--What are you doing here?” she asks, stepping down the steps of her childhood home and into the darkening street. She’s had enough, she needs to go home.

     “Got lost,” Kakashi says and follows her into the street.

     “On the road to life?” Sakura asks again, teasing, but the humor doesn’t reach her eyes. The sun is setting, and civilians are making their way towards their homes. Father would have been home already, he liked to outsmart the crowds, and surprise Mother with an early homecoming.

     “Nah, from the grocery store.” Kakashi replies and Sakura snorts at his reply, taking notice of the white plastic bag hanging from one of his hands. They walk in silence for a few moments before Sakura realizes he’s walking with her.

     “Don’t you live on the opposite side of town, Kakashi-sensei?” She asks.

     “Tsunade said you collapsed from chakra exhaustion.” Is his only explanation. Sakura turns the street in silence, she must have at her old door for a while. Kakashi follows.

     It’s Thursday. Team dinners are on Thursday, she’d forgotten (failure). With Kakashi’s ANBU missions so frequent, Team dinners had fallen flat. She maybe saw Kakashi every two weeks, and then it’s either at Ichiraku’s or at their training ground, where he’d throw her a cheap katana, (she can tell by the knicks that amass after every session) and drill her katas until her muscles ache.

     Only then does she see his Sharingan, only one, a painful reminder of who left her. At those sessions his back straightens from its usual slouch, his book is still in his hand, but it’s closed and pressed against his chest where his arms cross. He stares intently at her forms, and throws dull senbon at her ankles when she misses a step, or her foot is angled awkwardly. This is where they both feel comfortable with each other. Training means no side conversations, which means no inquiries as to how she’s doing, how he’s doing, did she get rid of the nightmares yet?

     Training means that he can assuage his guilt. Training means she can assuage hers. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. Sakura tries not to dwell on the fact that the only reason he has time for her is because Sasuke is gone, and Naruto.

     Team dinners are the only relics of the past that they make an effort to conform to. They’re not as frequent, but they happen every Thursday that Kakashi is in Konoha. For the first few weeks they were silent, Sakura would focus on her food and Kakashi on his Icha-Icha. As Sakura slowly bottles up her grief, silences it, gags it, she tries at conversation. It’s less conversation and more her talking about her day, her thoughts. Sometimes he responds, sometimes he doesn’t, but whenever she’s talking he doesn’t flip the page, and his one visible eye doesn’t move over the print. They’re trying.

     “I’m fine, won’t happen again this month.”

     He doesn’t say anything, only continues walking. They’re outside her door now. He follows her in and turning the light on, sets the white plastic bag on her counter. Kakashi does what he wants, and Sakura is tired, emotionally and physically. Her legs ache, she’s thirst, sweaty, and her head pounds even more.

     “I’m showering, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge, Kaka-sensei.”

     When she gets out of the shower, she expects Kakashi to have raided her fridge and fled, he did that several times before. He’s still here, but instead he’s taken out two tupperware containers from his plastic bag, and found two pairs of chopsticks in her kitchen.

     “Dinner.” Is his helpful answer to her silent question. He didn’t go grocery shopping then. Too tired to even try making conversation, she grabs a pair of chopsticks, and digs in. Kakashi also picks at the concoction, but lets her eat most of it. Its miso soup, that she drinks from the shaky plastic container, with chunks of eggplant, and fried eggplant with some rice. The rice is sticky and overcooked, the eggplant awash with too much oil, but it’s cooked and anything tastes good right now, even scarfed down at her counter.

     “You like eggplant?” She asks Kakashi in between bites. He rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

     “Sorta.” Sakura makes a mental note that he loves it.

     “Dinner was good, thanks Kaka-sensei.”

     “Anything for my favorite student.” There’s a poof, and both Kakashi and his tupperware are gone. She tries not to mention that she’s his only student.

* * *

 

     When she next wakes up, it’s a few minutes to 7. With a chant of ‘shit shit shit’ Sakura scrambles to get ready for her day. She’s out of the door by 7:01, and at the training grounds 4 minutes later. Tsunade is there waiting for her. She doesn’t seem too put out at Sakura’s lateness but Sakura knows that training today will not be easier than before.

     She’s proved correct when Tsunade uses a doton jutsu to pull up several large boulders, and then begins to throw a 500 pound rock in her direction. It’s easier to dodge than Tsunade’s fists, but their speed is incredible. Force equals mass times acceleration, acceleration equals speed over time, time is fractions of seconds ergo speed is ridiculous, times 500 lbs means if one makes contact, her bones will shatter.

     She’s wary, but she’s doing fine until Tsunade punches the large boulders into smaller chunks, and starts hurtling those at Sakura instead. The smaller ones are harder to avoid, and Sakura feels every single one that collides with her skin.  
At the end of training Tsunade surveys the destruction around her with a self satisfied grin. Sakura can only wobble as her bruises bloom and blood wells in shallow scrapes. She thinks that her bones are bruised, and running a diagnostic chakra scan through herself--she managed the whole scan several days ago, whereas previously she could only do small sections--is proven correct when the deep bruising shows itself.

     “Permission to heal Tsunade-shishou?” Sakura asks, her breathing labored.

     “Leave the skin bruises, heal the bone and the scrapes.” Tsunade says, glancing at Sakura. The quickness of her diagnosis is something Sakura strives to achieve, her resolution hardens. Gathering her chakra in her palms, she runs her hand across her arm, healing the bone bruising on her radius and ulna. It takes effort to not heal everything on sight, as she’s often prone to do. It’s a chakra lesson all in itself, to heal selective injuries instead of everything and anything. Next are scrapes, and those are easy review as she promotes regrowth until her skin is glowing again. Observing the division of cells she pauses, a passage in a scroll she’d read settling in her mind.

     “Why aren’t there many field medics?” She asks, and Tsunade looks down at her.

     “They’re rarities, a ninja who can heal well and fight. Most are not fit for battle. You’re either a medic, or you’re an active ninja.” That doesn’t sit right with Sakura, and she crosses her legs underneath her, dissipating the chakra in her palms.

     “Tsunade-shishou, you’re both,”

     “I am,” she nods.

     “Are you teaching me to be both?” Sakura doesn’t want to be just a ninja, or just a medic, that’s not enough, it won’t be enough. If she’s only one she’ll remain in the shadow of her teammates, teammates who left to become stronger, leaving her behind.

     “Well I’m not throwing rocks at you at 7 in the morning for fun, am I?” Tsunade replies with a huff, and the growing tension in Sakura’s shoulders seeps away with her exhale. She goes back to healing the scrape on her calf.

     “You made the Creation Rebirth Technique.” It’s a statement, a fact.

     “I did.”

     “Will I learn it?” Sakura keeps her eyes down on her calf, chakra steady as she waits with bated breath for a response. Tsunade studies her for a minute, and silence stretches out before them.

     “When your chakra control gets better.” The chakra in her palm flickers, and Sakura doesn’t feel good.

* * *

 

     It’s that same day, under the setting sun that Sakura, tense, impatient, and irritated from her own inability to do the one thing she’s good at, controlling chakra, seeks out Anko. Her palms are itching again, and her remaining chakra is jittery, she’d finished her shift at the hospital when Suzuki-san had forced her to go home. She would have, if she was tired, but all she feels right now is that same itch that forced her to go find Anko. She doesn’t know if Kakashi left for a mission, or if he’s already dead, she doesn’t know how to control her chakra, she has no teammates, no family. It’s her fault and that she’s in the position, and her going home would fix nothing. That itch is there as reminder, she can’t forget her weakness. She obeys it, needs it, and visits every shinobi bar she knows until she finds Anko.

     She’s there at the bar, surrounded by 5 other shinobi. Sakura recognizes one to be the one who proctored the third stage of the Chuunin exams, Genma, but the others are new to her. She pays them, and their impressive collection of alcohol no heed, and stalks up to Anko. As soon as she notices the pink haired girl, her eyes roll and her head falls back as she lets out a groan.

     “Kiddie what do you want?”

     “Fight me.” Sakura’s fists are clenched and the other shinobi in front of her look at her strangely.

     “Kiddie, you’re too young to be here, go home to your mommy and daddy and read a fairy tale, I have alcohol to consume,” Anko says and gets ready to turn back around. The barb makes Sakura’s palms itch even more, frustration easing out in her fluttering chakra at the mention of her parents.

     “Fight me Mitarashi-san,” The pink haired girl growls through clenched teeth, and Anko flips back around with a grimace.  
m

     “Don’t call me that pipsqueak, and no,”

     “Mitarashi-san. Fight. Me.”  
Anko’s fists clench and she turns back around to her drinking companions. “I’ll be back in 15 minutes, don’t drink my alcohol.” Turning towards Sakura she stands up. “If beating you up again will get you to leave me alone for another month or two, and make you stop calling me Mitarashi-san, then fine. Let’s go.”

     At the training grounds, Sakura restrains herself from scratching at her bruised arms. Sakura’s faster now, maybe not wiser, but hopefully a bit stronger. Anko glances her over.

     “Not so twig like now I see, Pinkie,”  
Sakura’s filled out, her arms are a bit thicker, and her thighs have some muscle definition, and she can feel the solidness of her stomach when she pokes at it before showering.

     “Worked out a bit,” Is her only reply, before she launches two kunai at Anko.  
Her aim is better, she has Kakashi to thank for that, but her speed is still lacking and Anko dodges quickly out of the way, blurring into nothingness. Sakura feels the whistle of air coming from behind her and dodges. From her previous spar Sakura can assume that Anko prefers close range attacks, but her aim is still deadly. She’s gonna get hurt either way if she remains near or far. There’s no water source near by to work in one of her two water jutsus, only hard packed earth beneath her. She knows two earth jutsus, one is defensive, as is common in earth jutsus, and the other is offensive, one that Kakashi had taught her from land of Rock that he had sniped from a chuunin. Sakura spots Anko and forms the seals, boar, rabbit, dog, boar, dog, ox… and releases the chakra, only to miss as Anko sends a punch into her gut. The jutsu is a success, and the small projectiles of rock and earth shoot themselves towards where Anko would have been. She still isn’t good at making the hand signs at a speed that will benefit her, and her concentration on the correct sign form forces her to lose sight of her opponent--a deadly mistake.  
Reeling from the punch, she rips her hands from the seal to strike Anko in the throat. She misses by a hair, as Anko ducks even lower and swipes her leg to trip her. Sakura isn’t able to evade and falls back, her hands barely keeping up to save her from a concussion. Anko jumps back a few steps as Sakura comes back to her surroundings and forces herself back up.

     “Learned a jutsu did you?” She says as Sakura stands and pulls out several kunai. When she finishes, Sakura throws her kunai again as distractions and then disappears into the treeline. Anko blocks the kunai and turns towards where Sakura disappeared and fires her own senbon. Sakura isn’t able to move quickly enough to dodge the three ninja tools that lodge themselves in her hand, wrist and arm. The senbon strike clean and true into her tendons and nerves and in trying to keep quiet from the lack of ability to move her right arm, the inside of Sakura’s mouth is awash in blood as her teeth dig into her tongue from panic.  
Pulling the senbon out she has only a split second to jump on a higher branch before another rain of senbon dig into the bark where her foot and ankle would’ve been. She tightens her hold on Anko’s senbon and appears again into the clearing. There she wastes no time in shooting the senbon back at Anko and getting close enough to attempt a few punches.

     Her lungs are burning and her calves are screaming. Forcing herself to go at speeds she isn’t used to, along with a day of training with Tsunade, and then chakra usage at the hospital, post chakra exhaustion leaves her body tired and not prepared for a spar with a tokubetsu jounin. Good, she’ll be stronger, she’ll learn to be stronger and learn that she’s weak, never strong enough. Won’t ever be strong enough. Her punches miss again and her frustration, like her chakra, bubbles to the surface of her skin. There’s the ache, slowly seeping with the blood from the senbon wounds.

     She misses her series of punches and when Anko twists around and hits just below her her head, Sakura’s head jerks back in reflex and she can hear the unhealthy cracks as her nerves respond in the form of whiplash. Anko doesn’t stop there, Sakura can feel Anko getting a little fed up and impatient from being taken away from her drinking partners on her day off. She delivers another hit to her spine and grabs Sakura’s arm, swinging her around like ragdoll as the pink haired girl tries to recover. When Anko let’s Sakura go, she flies a good 10 meters away and makes an impact with the ground that causes a few cracks.

     When Anko sees the persistent, stubborn girl fail to get up, she walks over and checks her vitals. She’s not _concerned_ , she just wants to make sure she didn’t kill someone’s genin and get knocked off the roster. The girl is out cold, her chakra levels abysmally low and bruises spanning the whole side she collapsed on. The arm she landed on is twisted strangely, but otherwise she’s breathing. Sniffing, Anko stalks back to her drinking mates 4 minutes and 32 seconds earlier than she promised.

* * *

 

     Sakura is woken by excruciating pain. As soon as her brain recovered enough from the onslaught of nerve damage that was Anko’s choice weapon this time around, her eyes had snapped open.  
Disoriented and pain ridden she twists onto her side, adrenaline beginning to wear off and her lungs struggling to support her body’s need for oxygen. Her breaths are short pants and she can’t see clearly as she struggles for a relief of the pain. Twisting onto her side proves to be a bad idea. As she puts pressure on her shoulder a shock of paint forces her onto her back, and she needs a minute to recuperate. In the haze of pain the failure of her second encounter with Anko burns in her chest and in her eyes. It’s a good reminder, one she won’t forget, she’ll get stronger, she’s OK.

     The last dredges of chakra scrape themselves through her pathways into her palms. As soon as the chakra sludges up into her palms, Sakura realizes that her body is subconsciously trying to heal itself, or prompt her conscious to do so. Her brain’s own way of protecting itself from dying, utilizing the tools she’d been taught.

     Furious at herself for trying to get rid of the pain of failure so quickly she clenches her chakra laden palms, just waiting to be turned into malleable medical chakra, and slams them as hard as she can against the packed earth beneath her and releases the last ounce. Cracks form from the impact of her chakra laden fist, but she doesn’t immediately notice, in favor of letting out a scream as her broken wrist and hand scream in protest upon hitting the ground. With no chakra, and her body in bruised, broken, partially bloody agony her brain shuts itself down again.

* * *

 

     The next time she wakes it’s with the need to vomit. Reflex turns her head to the side as her lunch comes up, and hands are brushing her head back.

     “Shhh, Sakura, shhh,” The voice is calm, confident, and quiet, and it sends a pang through her as she chokes her way through her gag reflex. Her mother, it reminds her of her mother, and instead of gagging her weak mind forces sobs.

     “It’s alright, I’m here, I’m just going to heal you up a bit alright, then take you home, ok Sakura?”

     Sakura’s good arm reaches out towards the hands pulling at her hair and clasps onto it with an iron grip. The hands are firm, callouses on her palms and fingertips. They’re not her mother’s--soft, callous-less, dainty hands that didn’t know the blisters of holding a kunai. She’d used moisturizer every evening, ‘Smells like Sakura blossoms doesn’t it, Sakura-chan?’, worn gloves when washing the dishes, softness that would rival that of a princess.  
They’re not her mother’s hands and Sakura forces her eyes open to see Shizune on her knees on her injured side.

     “It’s alright, we’re not going to the hospital, you won’t be able to handle their healings there. I’m just gonna patch you up, I still have a bit of chakra left, and we’ll go home and your parents will take care of you there. Alright Sakura?” Shizune’s trying to keep her awake. At the mention of going home to her parents, Sakura’s fragile state isn’t able to hold in the almost palpable burst of grief. Pain, grief, and failure mold themselves into Sakura’s form, and she curls into herself to attempt to stop the onslaught. Her good hand, the one that tingles from the nerve damage is an anvil that crushes Shizune’s hand. Shizune grows even more panicked as the pink haired girl, prodigious, dedicated girl crumbles beneath her hands.

     “Sakura--,”

     “They’re dead, they’re dead, dead, dead, Dead,” Her whispers are weak and Shizune might not have heard had she not paused to try to pull her bruising hand out of Sakura’s.

     “Who’s dead, Sakura? Who’s dead?” Shizune questions, concern lacing her features. She glances up to see if there was anyone around who she can task with getting Tsunade.

     “Mother, Father, Mama, Papa, dead, dead.” Sakura chokes out through sobs, and Shizune grows somber.

     “Who hurt you just now Sakura?” She asks, but Sakura doesn’t respond, keeps repeating what she’s already said through shuddering sobs.

     “Let me take you home Sakura--,” Shizune says, moving the curled up girl into a position easiest to carry. “Where do you live? Sakura?” The girl doesn’t reply, caught up in her own circle of self-loathing.

     Shizune stands up and picks Sakura up, careful of her injuries with full intent to take her back to her apartment. When she stands she notices a figure standing at the edge of the clearing.

     “Kakashi! Tsunade--!”

     His posture is impossibly tense as he leans against the tree with his arms crossed. “She lives on 24 Lantern Lane, Apartment 4,”

     “What?” Shizune asks, and as soon as she begins to take a step towards him with broken Sakura in her arms, he’s already a few feet further away from her.

     “24 Lantern Lane, Apartment 4. Key’s in the potted ficus.” From underneath his mask she can see his jaw is tense and his knuckles white as he holds Icha-Icha Paradise, a complete opposite to his slouched posture. As soon as he understands that Shizune’s processed Sakura’s address, he vanishes with barely a stirred leaf.

     Shizune gets to Sakura’s apartment (in the orphan section, how long…?), and after healing the worst of her injuries puts her into bed. Only then does she notice the piles of clothes on her floor, and the dirty dishes in the sink. Notices the small altar with an incense stick and some parts of her previous meal. Her current physical state, the obvious mental distress. Determined, Shizune sets off towards the Hokage tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whatdaya think!?


	5. shrank, thinned, and ceased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title dantes inferno,
> 
> SUP MY DUDES< THE SUPPORT IS OUTSTANDING AND I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH   
> thank you for putting up with me at the flip in schedule oops, next update will be on sunday as scheduled! also because life happened, this chapter was written in about 8 hours and edited in around 2, so tbh isn't my fav chap but i hope yall still enjoy!!  
> itachi comes in this chap ;)

     That morning she wakes from a nightmare. She’s in the Forest of Death and her hair is long again. She has Orochimaru's tongue around her throat and her own hands are around her parents’ throats. She doesn’t let go, can’t, won’t, and in so for every inch Orochimaru’s tongue tightens, her hands tighten on their throats until they’re blue and clawing at her for mercy. When she can’t breathe, Mama's and Papa’s blood pours freely down her hands from where her fingers tore through flesh and artery.

     Consequently, she wakes up choking on her own vomit.

     When she makes it to the bathroom she’s crying and barely manges to get to the toilet to vomit up bile. Her breathing is ragged and she's torn her hands beyond recognition. In this moment she can't fully distinguish reality and fiction and only in the dry tub does she begin to distinguish that the blood on her hands that’s smearing on the white porcelain of the tub isn’t her parents’ but her own. Slowly, ever so slowly then does she begin to crush her emotions into a little tiny ball in her gut and blink through the watery haze. She needs to go outside, and it won’t do if she breaks down in public.

     She strips, and sits under scalding water until the bile, sweat, dirt, and blood disappear down the drain and the water runs clear. She gets out then, her muscles aching and her arm painfully sore. She can move it, but not without resistance, and her whole side is a mass of several week old healing bruises. She hopes that she only dreamed that someone found her.  
Her hopes are dashed when she gets to Training Ground 5 half an hour late and sees Tsunade sitting in the grass, waiting for her. She's sitting, which is red flag number one, and even though Sakura is half an hour late, she looks to be calm. Red flag number two.

     At seeing her, Tsunade makes a ‘come hither’ motion with her fingers, and sets Sakura with a stare that has her cowering like a submissive dog. Those few short moments, where Sakura, mirroring Tsunade’s cross legged pose, sits, are one of the most stressful moments of her life.

    Sakura knows she’s royally fucked up. That someone found her and took her up her apartment (how did they even know where she lived?) and told the Hokage (one is supposed to report such things as a badly beaten up child alone in a training field). On one hand Sakura is wondering who, and on the other she’s wondering if the dropping of her apprenticeship will be peaceful or violent (she’s wasted Tsunade’s time, twice this month there’s been an incident where she’s needed a reprimand), and what she’s going to do when the people around her leave again.

     “Good morning,” Tsunade says, and that tone both gives nothing away, and everything.

     “Good morning, Tsunade-shishou,” Her voice is rough.

     “Let’s start with last night.” Tsunade says and Sakura’s mouth grows dry. There’s no point in bending the truth now. “Why did Shizune find you beaten within an inch of your life on Training Ground 3?”

     Shizune, oh. She walks this way at the end of her shift.

     “A training mishap, Tsunade-shishou,”

     “Don’t get smart with me, Haruno. Who beat you up?”

     Sorry Anko.

     “I was training with Mitarashi Anko,”

     Tsunade’s face gets stormier. “And does Mitarashi Anko know the consequences of her ‘training’? Unnecessary displays of force and failure to report or take care of an injured sparring partner to the hospital are not acceptable in Konoha,”

     “The display of force was not unnecessary, and the report and care were denied,” Might as well help her out. Anko’s helped, a lot.

     Tsunade pauses, and considers Sakura.

     “If you had not received medical care you would’ve had bone splinters in your liver, are you aware of that?”

     “I am, Tsunade-shishou,”

     “So why did you ask Anko to do that?”

     Sakura gulps, “I was frustrated.”

     “Frustrated?” Tsunade asks, her eyebrows furrowing.

     “Yes.”

     “About what?” God Sakura is tired.

     “From my weakness. I cannot keep my precious people safe. I’m not strong enough.”

     Tsunade is silent at the admission and Sakura clenches the fabric on her thighs.

     “So you thought getting beaten up by Anko, who by the way has a track record for these stunts, would be a conducive way to train?”

     “Yes. I needed to understand that my weakness will get my precious people killed.”

     That’s when the rocks start. Sakura gets hit with a few good chunks, but when she fails to continue to dodge, the rain gets heavier and falls around her instead of on her. Tsunade seems to be missing her on purpose.

     “You self-sacrificial, masochistic moron!” Tsunade yells, puncturing the last word with a rock. Sakura grimaces and forces herself to move and dodge from a wayward projectile. Tsunade stops and just looks at Sakura. She’s banged up, and cradling her previously injured arm to her stomach. Bruises peek from her clothes and from what Tsunade sees, connect into one solid mass of purple. Her pink hair is tied behind her in a ponytail that hasn’t been washed, and when Sakura looks Tsunade in the eyes, the purple shadows are pronounced. Her eyes are dull and there’s barely an ember of that determination that Tsunade saw before.

     “You live on your own.”

     “I do.”

     “Does anyone else know?” About her living arrangement, about her parents.

     “Only Kakashi-sensei,”

     “Your teammates?”

     “No.”

     That makes Tsunade pause.

     “Come with me.” Tsunade says and grabs Sakura by the wrist and starts walking. Sakura doesn’t go without protest.

     “Tsunade-shishou, where are we going?”

     “Shush, you’ll see when we get there.” Her hand on Sakura’s bruised wrist is painful but Sakura knows not to complain. She should’ve been stronger to not have gotten the bruises in the first place.

     Tsunade pulls her along the now familiar route to the hospital, but instead of entering she swerves into a building just off to the side. Sakura will grow to hate this building.

     “Tsunade-shishou, where are we?” The Hokage, pulling on a small pink haired girl's arm is drawing some eyes.

     “Therapy.” She says, and Sakura blinks.

     “Therapy?”

     “Yes, when Shizune came in and told me to look in your file, I saw that you had leased an apartment under your own name, which as a civilian born genin, is highly unusual. Shizune told me about what she saw, and I pulled some strings and made an appointment with a psychiatrist to get a whiff of your mental state. Talking to you just now, I’ve realised that I’ve been negligent, so I’m fixing that,”

     “I’m fine,” She doesn’t need to talk to anyone.

     “Sure you are, I’m just going to have an unbiased, licensed professional check you out. You’re also acting as my guinea pig, if that makes your self-sacrificial brain feel better, since I’m planning to expand this department. God knows ninjas are all fucked up a bit.”

     They’ve stepped into the main office and already Sakura knows she won’t like it here. The space is painted a deep purple, and the furniture is brilliant white leather and dark, sharp wood. The knick knacks on the tables and bookshelves, characteristic to a waiting room, are sparse and vague as to upon their significance and use. The receptionist, a young blond dressed in a green cardigan, looks up at their entrance.

     “Hokage-sama! What can I do for you?” Sakura sees a Konoha hitai-ate casually strapped to her arm.

     “Akari-chan, I made an appointment for Haruno Sakura for this morning, is Dr. Toru available?” Akari glances at the subtle door to her left and then flips through a schedule book on her desk.

     “He should be available in a few minutes, his previous appointment should be leaving soon,”

     Tsunade nods and then asks, “Getting busier?”

     “Yes! More appointments are being made with your help, Hokage-sama, Dr. Toru-sama’s schedule is filling up quite quickly!”

     “And how is Konoha treating you?” 

     “It’s much sunnier than Ame! But I am enjoying it very much. Thank you for allowing us to transfer here, we are very grateful,”

     “It was our pleasure Akari-chan, the Konoha psychiatric facilities were shitty at best before you and Dr. Toru arrived.”

     Akari laughs, and Sakura tries to subtly pull her wrist away from Tsunade’s grip. She doesn’t even spare a glance at Sakura, only tightens her already steel grip. Sakura feels her fingers tingle.

     The door that Akari had looked at before opens, and before Sakura can examine the person leaving, she’s unceremoniously being shoved into the vacated room. Tsunade doesn’t follow her in, only yells out that an escort will be waiting for her when she gets out.

* * *

 

     The interior of the room is lighter than the waiting room. The walls are pale green and while the couches are still white leather it’s somehow less stifling. It’s not the stark white and hardened plastic and steel of the hospital she’s come to be so relaxed in, but it’s a bit similar, something she might be able to take comfort in, maybe.   
On one of the couches sits a small man with round glasses, he’s balding a little. He’s in a white doctor’s coat Sakura hopes to wear soon (until Sakura proves herself capable in the ICU, she gets a medic belt, a doctor’s coat comes after).

     “Oh! Are you Sakura-san?” The man asks, flipping through some papers on his lap. She doesn’t know what he’s searching for, she certainly hasn’t filled out any paperwork.

     “Yes,” She’s standing still at the door that she was just unceremoniously shoved though.

     Sakura knows how this will go down. As soon as he starts asking questions, and as soon as she starts replying in earnest, all of her carefully crumpled emotions are going to expand and overwhelm her. As soon as she’s honest about the way she deals with this, she’ll be forbidden to do so, Tsunade will know and Anko will get in trouble. She won’t be allowed to work to her full potential and she’ll be stagnant. Stagnant like a puddle from a muddy pond on a summer day; small, insignificant, disgusting, and dying from the heat of the sun. She won’t, it’s not happening.

     “Sit down then, won’t you? How are you doing?” 

     With measured, careful steps she walks over to one of the couches and settles on the barest edge. No emotion, not here, she’ll lose everything here.

     “I’m fine,”

     “That’s good! How was your day?”

     “It was fine.”

     “Any particular things that you enjoyed from this morning? A good breakfast, perhaps? A nice cat?”

     “Breakfast was fine. No,” He’s writing things down and barely glancing up to look at her, and Sakura itches to see what the hell he’s writing about so early in a session. A desire to study more on psychiatric evaluations embeds itself in her mind; she needs to know what the hell he’s getting out of this conversation.

     Dr. Toru persists, and the questions are bland to a point where Sakura forgets to be cautious. She’s asked her favorite color, her favorite season. Favorite food, best friend (Ino). She’s slowly relaxing and assuming that nothing bad is going to happen until he straight up and asks her.

     “How are your parents?” Then she’s sitting rod straight and tense, barely breathing. The dream from the night before flashes through her head, her hands around their throats as they choke.

     “They’re dead,”

     “I’m sorry for your loss,” He doesn’t miss a beat and he’s onto the next question.

     “When did they pass away?”

     “A while back,”

     “Are you living alone?”

     “Yes,” She’s fine.

     “Do you work?”

     “Yes,”

     “Do you smoke?”

     “No,”

     “Drink?”

     “No,” She’s fine.

     “Self-harm?”

     Her answer is a half a beat late.

     “No.” She’s fine.

     He’s writing and Sakura is silently screaming. She doesn’t want to be here. She’s fine. She’s fine.

     “How often do you work?” She’s fine.

     “I’m fine.” She’s fine.

     Dr. Toru glances up, his hand never stops moving. 

     “I’m fine.” Sakura doesn’t know if she’ll be able to breathe if he asks anymore questions.

     “How often do you work, Sakura-san?”

     “I’m fine.” She bites it out, and her fingernails are digging painfully into her palms.

     “Are you doing alright?” He asks, and Sakura wants her bones to shatter.

     “I’m. Fine.”

     He keeps writing, and then hands her a pale green slip of paper (she’s starting to hate that color, the walls, the return slip).

     His smile is kind when she grabs it. She doesn’t look at it, wants to crumple it in her palms. “I’ll see you next Saturday, 10am.”

     “I can’t. Ino.” She will not stand her up, no way in seven hells. 

     “Next Sunday, then.” He scribbles on a new sheet and she’s quick to get out of the room. She’s fine.

     When Sakura leaves the building, she heads into the nearest alley and slides down the wall. Heart heart is thundering in her ears to the point where she can’t hear anything else. Her veins feel like ice, and something is squeezing her so tightly, she can’t breathe. She can’t breathe, and each shallow breath isn’t enough, she’s going to die. The ground is being pulled away from her and she’s terrified, so utterly terrified that through her darkening vision she vomits.

     (It’s a panic attack, she’s read about this, she knows this, deep breaths, Outer. Follow Inner Sakura, deep breaths in--). Deep breaths, she’s taking deep breaths, in and out. In and out to calm her heart and stomach, in, and out. 4 breaths in, hold and 4 beats out. She’ll get enough air. In and out. She’s ok, she’s ok, and finally, finally her muscles are relaxed enough, adrenaline wearing off for her to raise her head and hope that she never experiences that ever again.

* * *

 

For the next 3 weeks that she visits Dr. Toru, at the end of each session like clockwork she collapses in the alley way three steps from the building and experiences that all over again.

* * *

 

     Her nightmares are worse now. Her hands are now more often than not responsible for her parents' death. Whatever she learns, her dreams reflect. She dreams that she’s playing with her parents' cranial nerves, sending bursts of chakra to each bundle and making them dance, slowly killing them. 

     With her mother, she plays with her Facial, Glossopharyngeal, and Hypoglossal nerves, and makes her mother drown in her own saliva, unable to swallow it down and breathe. With her father she messes with his Optic, Oculomotor, Trochlear, and Abducens nerves; his eyesight and ability to see, until his eyes are burning and he's screaming for her to stop. When she wakes up she can never remember how she felt in the act, but she knows that she wants to die after these dreams and vomits into her toilet. She's stopped sleeping in her room.

     At some point someone intervenes, and she knows because after her weekly panic attack in the alleyway after her therapy session, there's an ANBU member a few feet away from the entrance of the alley. She's been doing great by keeping her feelings crumpled into little balls in the pit of her stomach, but Sakura knows Tsunade is starting to suspect. She's getting tired quicker, she's getting closer and closer to being late, and not even chakra clears away the bags under her eyes, or soothes her bedraggled appearance. 

     She’s gathering the energy to stand (she’s not falling apart), when the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She jerks her head towards the entrance of the alleyway, and 2 steps from her is the ANBU member. The mask painted in a falcon’s likeness registers as one of Tsunade’s guards. As soon as the ninja is aware that Sakura’s noticed, they make the gesture for ‘follow’. She’s a few beats too late to stand, and the ANBU member is ready to step back towards her and pick her up, but as soon as they make a move to do so, Sakura jolts into a standing position, and follows.

     They’re walking through alleyways so as to not catch attention. Sakura isn’t steady enough to use chakra, her limbs are still weak and her fingers tremble. They’re getting suspiciously close to the Uchiha Compound when Sakura stops, and her voice, shaky, asks,

     “Where are we going?”

     “Uchiha Compound, where you will be looked after until Hokage-sama deems your living space acceptable. She asked me to pass on that training sessions and hospital duties are cancelled for the next 4 days.”

     The voice is male, but Sakura doesn’t care to puzzle out who it is. She’s more focused on not passing out.

     “Uchiha Compound?” 

     The ANBU ninja doesn’t respond, instead turns back around and continues to lead her forward. She might be ready to discuss Sasuke with Ino, but that’s Ino, a girl who doesn’t look like him in the slightest, in a situation where there are no physical reminders of him. At the Compound, he’s everywhere. Black hair, dark eyes, a blunt comment on her weakness and a bitter taste of disappointment, abandonment. There she is to stew in her own worthlessness where she can’t resume her duties, and constantly remember that she’s alone, her own teammates didn’t want to be with her. 

     When they pass through the gates, the nervous jerk in her stomach is growing to a roil.

     When she sees the first with spiky black hair, she cringes, and her stomach is roiling.

     When they stop in front of a large house, Sasuke’s house, Sakura wants to die.

     His mother is there, his father, brother. Here she is a shallow girl they need to babysit. Mikoto opens the door, and she is just as regal and beautiful as Sakura remembers her months prior. The loss of her second son has not ruined her composure. 

     She steps out to greet Sakura, who has to wince at the thought of her own appearance. Sakura is bedraggled. Her hair is a messy ponytail behind her, the hair too short to fit is around her neck. The fly aways are curled from sweat and she knows her hitai-ate is crooked. Her nails are bitten and short and streaked with dirt, her short sleeved top is rumpled and her ankle bindings are loose. Compared to Mikoto’s shiny braided hair, and blue kimono, she is a bug. 

     “Sakura! I haven’t seen you in a while,” Mikoto makes a quick gesture and the ANBU leading her vanishes. She steps down the stairs and every movement is fluid and graceful and everything Sakura is not. Sakura stands as still as she can while Mikoto approaches her. She seems to notice (or she already knows? Tsunade must have briefed her), that Sakura is more fragile than before, maybe in her stillness, maybe in the sickness of her skin. Her hands slowly, come to Sakura’s cheeks, and soft hands brush away streaked dirt and dried tears.

     “How have you been?”

     At her touch, a mother’s touch, soft, and caring, and warm, something lodges in Sakura’s throat and she can’t answer her. Why is she doing this? Why is she acting like she cares so much? She’s seen her once, and Sasuke no doubt told her of how annoying she was. Why is she being so kind.   
When Mikoto pulls her hands away and turns to lead Sakura inside, she scrubs at her cheeks. 

     “You don’t have to take me in Uchiha-sama,” Sakura finds her voice, and Mikoto turns back to look at the girl behind her.

     “Nonsense, Tsunade-chan asked me too,” 

     “I’ll just be putting a strain on your family, Uchiha-sama. I’ll just head back home, thank you.” Sakura bows (her hands aren’t shaking). She needs to leave, she’s weak, disgusting, and not material to step into the home of the most put together woman (emotionally and otherwise) alive.

     She’s rising to turn and walk as quickly out of the compound as she can, but Mikoto stops her with a firm hand on her shoulder and ushers her inside. Sakura has no room to protest.

     “Don’t hurt my feelings Sakura-chan,”

* * *

     The house is as gorgeous as it was when Sakura was first there, months ago. It's traditional, with the tatami mats and the paper sliding doors, but there's a touch of the new age. The furniture and decor is dark and sharp, yet somehow homely. Put together, complete.

     Sakura takes off her shoes and is guided into the kitchen. There, Mikoto sits her down and hands her a cup of tea. Sakura doesn't want to touch the cup; it's dark blue china with artfully depicted cranes in red. Her hands are dirty, chakra burned and blood drenched (she hasn't even made her first kill--but hasn't she?), but with a pointed look that Sakura cannot ignore, picks up the cup and ignores the way her hands shake. 

     "Today, Sakura-chan, the most ridiculous thing happened--," Mikoto starts, and doesn't even wait for a response before she continues. "--I went to the market this morning, right? and I'm completing my usual circuit when I see a cat."

     Sakura doesn't know what's happening.

     "It's a pretty little thing, let me tell you. It was black and fluffy, with the sweetest white paws. It was very obvious it was a stray, since it seemed rather thin and burr-covered. But I took pity, and after buying some sausage from the nearby vendor, Tanaka-san, a wonderful man by the way, and I tore off a piece to give to the cat. It comes closer to inspect, and I'm holding the bigger piece of the sausage in my other hand and it eats the smaller piece, but while it's doing that it goes ahead and swipes the bigger piece with its paw from my hand!"   
Mikoto is laughing, and Sakura forces a weak smile. Mikoto takes that as a win.

     "Did you have any pets while growing up?" She asks, and takes a sip of her tea. Sakura shakes her head as no. "Neither did I, Itachi always wanted a cat when he was youger. That's partly the reason why I went up to that cat in the first place. But he never wanted a ninja cat, which was surprising, just a regular, non chakra cat." Mikoto smiles at the memory.

     "We couldn't unfortunately. When Sasuke was born, we discovered that he was allergic, and that was the end of that." 

     It went on like that, with Mikoto sharing tidbits of her day or previous, or tell and anecdote or ask a question about her, her training, her childhood. Mikoto was so open and relaxed about sharing that Sakura's grip on the cup slowly relaxed, and no longer when she puts the cup down does it clatter as her fingers jerk. This almost safe atmosphere that she hasn’t felt in ages, only fades when she heard steps coming up to the kitchen. 

     "Itachi--!" Mikoto says, and smiles at the arrival of her eldest. Sakura looks over and sees someone who looks so much like Sasuke, that she has to turn away. It’s one thing to talk of him in diapers and of his allergies, and another to see someone who looks so similar standing at the doorway. She knows it's not him, knows that they are different, look different, but the dark hair and general silence are too much of a reminder of who left, and who followed. 

     "Mother," His voice is quiet, and Sakura can feel eyes on her for a brief few seconds before they flick away to Mikoto.

     "How was your mission?" She asks, and Sakura can hear the adoration.

     "Fine,"

     "When are you off again?"

     "Tomorrow morning, Mother," 

     Mikoto hums thoughtfully and frowns. "Will you be joining us for dinner?"

     "Of course." Itachi replies to undercurrent of steel in his mother's voice.

     Mikoto smiles sweetly, and turns to Sakura.

     "You'll be staying as well. The guest bedroom is is upstairs at the end of the hall to the right, and the guest bathroom is the door to the right just before it. Dinner is at 6." 

     "Uchiha-sama, I really can't--,"

     "You're hurting my feelings, Sakura-chan," Mikoto interrupts, and in her gaze there's that steel that Sakura knows she can't say no too. Sakura withers.

     "I'll stay until tomorrow morning."

* * *

 

     When Sakura makes her way up the stairs to the guest bedroom, she collapses onto the bed there and just lays there. She doesn't want to sleep for the fear of nightmares, but she's tired, and getting up is the last thing she wants to do. So she lays there, and thinks about how she's ended up in this mess.   
Someone notified Tsunade that something isn't working. Sakura's been adamant in hiding her uncooperation with therapy from her mentor, and Sakura is sure that Tsunade wouldn't have taken further action in placing her under Uchiha care unless notified. She is a busy woman.

     Dr. Toru is unlikely. Doctor-Patient confidentiality is a staple for him. As a civilian psychiatrist who had gone through the regular channels to become a doctor, even rising to treat ninjas with fucked up mentalities (a feat in itself, rarely does a civilian show interest in the people who protect the village), he would never reveal what happens in his sessions. Even if Tsunade, as Hokage requested (forced) him to tell, he wouldn't do it. He is only required to notify her if Sakura is unfit for duty, and if he was the one to tell Tsunade, then she would be off the roster and hospital rotation for longer than 4 days. 

     Shizune maybe? She had apologized when Sakura came back for her studies, and in the earnest way she had apologized for interfering with her personal life, Sakura doesn’t think so. It's taboo in ninja society, to act like she did, Shizune had said. The way a person copes is theirs and theirs alone, and interrupting that is next to cardinal sin. She had explained that despite this she really didn't want Sakura to burn out, and drown without proper mental care, that she and Tsunade cared for her. She had punctured her apology with a bow too low to be anything but truly honest. Sakura had forgiven her immediately. These women who had begun to teach her were patient, and kind, and all for teaching her the arts of medical ninjutsu. Shizune might have seen Sakura in passing in that alleyway, but it's unlikely, and even more so by her almost inappropriately low bow towards a younger student, that she would notify Tsunade.

     She's kept a tight lid on therapy sessions with Ino. Hasn't told her, but really it just hasn't come up. Ino knows she tired and stressed and a bit lonely, which is why she makes plans for them to meet often at cafes and shops. Sakura hasn't missed a single agreed upon time, and she relishes in those short hours where she doesn't need to think about herself.

     Kakashi might have seen her in the alleyway, or maybe he stopped by when she was seizing in her bathroom, but would he tell anyone? Would he be that good of a shinobi? It's growing all the more likely now that she's thinking about it. He has a habit of showing up at the strangest times, times where she's all but holding herself together by thin threads. He wouldn't have told Tsunade everything, that she knows as a fact. He is aware that if she stops working, isn't allowed to work, her situation will spiral unhealthily (more so than already) out of control. Kakashi might have let something slip through, that therapy isn't having desired effects.

     Would she be angry at him if it was him? Betrayed? Already she's thinking no, she can't be angry at her precious people. Can't be angry at people who care or try to. Even she knows somewhere deep down that the way she's handling this isn't the best, and well, that's the first step isn't it? Admitting it.

     She hears a soft knock on her door, and Mikoto notifies her it's 10 minutes until dinner. Sakura thanks her, and sits up. She's about to have dinner with the Uchiha family sans Sasuke. Two of the members she hasn't even met, and already if she walks out looking like she's been hit by fast moving cart, she doubts dinner will be pleasant. She stands and exits the room to the bathroom. There she washes her face and her hands and tries to slap some rosiness into her cheeks. She doesn't have time or the means to wash her hair, instead redos her ponytail to hide the greasiness and slicks back the flyaways. She'll settle for someone who was hit by a fast moving cart, but now at least it doesn't look like she'd fallen into a puddle at impact.  
Breathe in for 4 counts, hold for 4, and out for 4. Smile on her face, muscles relatively relaxed, (she understands now why Kakashi wears his mask and hides behind his porn. He doesn't have to school his features as much, and no one looks past the cover to realize he hasn't flipped a page in hours), and heads down to dinner.

     She's the first there, and immediately goes to the kitchen to help Mikoto set the table. She's a guest, but she will hold her weight. Mikoto gives her a sweet smile and hands her the plates and chopsticks, and Sakura dutifully sets the table. It's nice.

     When they finish, Itachi enters and sits down, and then who Sakura presumes is Sasuke's father, comes in and sits down. They're both silent, and she isn't sure if its a content sort of silence or a serious silence.

     "My name is Haruno Sakura--," She bows, "--I was Sasuke-san's teammate. It's very nice to meet you. Thank you for letting me into your home." 

     "Uchiha Fugaku, and my eldest son, Uchiha Itachi," Fugaku says, nodding towards Sakura, "My wife notified us of your stay," 

     Sakura nods, and sits down at the place Mikoto had pointed out to her. She doesn't know what to do with herself. There's no Naruto (oh that sweet sweet boy), to steer the conversation, and as the weakest one there she can barely breathe under the unconscious intimidation. Three Uchiha's in one silent room are no joke. The Matriarch's presence is the only one she is most comfortable with, and surprisingly it's the one she's most intimidated by, her chakra signature is light but magnificent, relaxed but chained in. There's so much chakra and the beat it plays at is complex. Fugaku's presence is denser, more hard angles and a steadier beat. There's a lot of chakra, especially behind his eyes that Sakura can sense, but instead of chained like Mikoto's, the way he contains his chakra is more by a solid invisible wall.

     Itachi is similar to his mother in terms of chakra that she can sense. She hasn't looked at any of them directly at the table (which is rude, she knows, what would moth--), so all she has to go by is her chakra sense. His still sturdy like his father's, but it has the airy, elegant flavor of his mother's. It's chained to him, but unlike his mother's those chains are tighter, more controlled, almost straining.

     "Sakura-chan here is training under Tsunade," Mikoto says in lieu of comversation. The Uchiha do enjoy strong people, and if Tsunade personally asked her to check Sakura out (Mikoto wasn't the best genjutsu specialist and ninja psychiatrist for nothing), then Sakura in the Uchiha mind, might need a reevaluation.

     Fugaku looks up. He knows that when his wife makes a note of something, it serves for him to pay attention.

     "The Fifth Hokage?" He turns his attention towards Sakura, "How long have you been training under her?" 

     "A few months now," Sakura responds, and this is easier. 

     "Are you excelling?" 

     "Tsunade-shishou would drop me if I was not," Sakura answers. This earns a satisfied nod from Fugaku.

     "And your genin sensei?" Fugaku asks.

     "He is back on ANBU rotation, Uchiha-sama. I train with him sometimes though,"

     Fugaku nods his head, and that seems to be the end of his questioning. It is once again silent until Mikoto speaks.

     "We have a meeting with the Hyuuga tomorrow evening, dear, do you remember?" Mikoto asks, and Fugaku nods his head.

     "Yes dear," 

     "Itachi, more vegetables please,"

     "Yes Mother,"

     It's the casual tone at which she says seeming innocuous phrases that has her son piling more vegetables on his plate, and her husband immediately at attention, that shock Sakura completely. It's a completely different dynamic than that of what she's remembered her family to have. Her family was more of compromise. There was no sole leader in her home, her mother and father would together nag each other to eat vegetables, and remind each other of their appointments. Usually nothing got done by this lackadaisical manner of passing responsibilities off one another, but the lack of such mannerisms in this household reveals that it was never a Patriarchy as she, and many other fangirls had previously thought, but a true Matriarchy, embedded with a powerful head. Sakura isn’t intimidated (haha, sure).

     Sakura eats as much as she can handle (it isn't much, she's worried that she'll vomit it back up), and helps with renewed vigor and respect to clear the table.

     After Mikoto had casually and firmly (dear god this woman) dismissed her family members, she sat Sakura back down with a cup of tea. With good food in her stomach, and nerves slightly soothed (and frazzled, dear god, it’s a _Matriarchy,_ god she's been an idiot), Mikoto begins conversation again.

     Sakura doesn't answer with much, but the questions are innocuous enough, and Mikoto's own stories lighthearted enough that Sakura feels OK to chuckle at them. She’s briefly asked about her mother and her hand creams, and even though Sakura goes tense, she answers that her mother enjoyed the scent of Sakura blossoms on her hands.

     Sakura goes to bed that night in the Uchiha Compound and turns 13 years old, and even though she wakes up sweating and unable to look at her hands (which are covered in their blood, she's responsible), she doesn't vomit up dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i said itachi comes in this chapter, not that he's gonna do anything more than eat vegetables,, yall thought,, lmao
> 
> whatdaya think???!!!


	6. a blinding splendour hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yIKES this took a month to write, i sincerely apologize to you guys for the wait, i got hit with a nasty case of writers block and this took a gigantic amount of effort to write,  
> and here begins the chuunin exam ark, which is literally only two chapters, this being the first,  
> doNT yaLL worRY folks, more itachi will be soon, but honestly i cant put them together when shes 13 i cant do that no sir no no,  
> but the tag slow burn is there for a reason folks, and i will milk that tag for everything its worth  
> enjoy the training montage!!! hopefully ill be able to write the next chapter quicker than this one , also i have no beta and its 2 am, sry for the mistakes

     “Why didn’t you tell me?” It’s the first thing out of Ino’s mouth once Sakura opens her door, and in the most Ino way possible it sounds both outraged and impossibly sad.

     Ino looks over her shoulder, to the corridor that Sakura shares with her neighbors and when she the old lady next door coming up the stairs, gently pushes her way past Sakura in her apartment. The usual brashness is gone; Ino is being _gentle_ , and that’s truly the first red flag that she isn’t too happy with this situation.

     Sakura doesn’t quite know what to do. At seeing Ino at her door her throat had constricted to the point where she’s struggling to take in a breath. Fear and adrenaline are racing through her veins double time as she watches her last defense crumble.

     Ino’s here, she’s here, she knows, she knows, there’s no hiding anymore, she knows, and that means that everyone else will too and--

     “Get inside, you’ll catch a cold if you stand out there. You’re the mednin, Forehead, use it.” Ino says, and walks over to Sakura who hasn’t registered Ino’s words. Ino closes the door and pulls Sakura towards the couch.

     She’d barely been in her apartment, safe from other people and their expectations, and just started to relax from the onslaught of Uchiha that had been her only vision for the past several days. Not even a chance to relax and already she has nowhere where she can let go. The tears well unbidden and her breaths are so shallow and quick she’s hyperventilating. Ino notices immediately and grabs at her shoulders.

     “Breathe Sakura!” Ino looks a bit panicked now, looking at her friend who has definitely seen better days. Up close the pallor of her skin is made worse by the sweat beading at her forehead and deep purple bruises under her eyes.

     “Can’t--,” Sakura chokes out, trying to regain control of her breathing. Her hand is on her stomach and the other on her chest, and each deep inhale is interrupted with her chest stuttering.

     “You’re alright, Sakura! Deep breaths,”

     “Can’t tell--,”

     “What? Sakura breathe! Then talk,”

     Sakura feels so nauseous and cold, it’s as if it’s never ending. “Ino. You can’t--tell,”

     “Can’t tell what? Who?”

     “Where I live, you can’t to anyone, please,” Sakura gasps out and the blonde stares incomprehensibly at her friend.

     “ _Please Ino_ ,” Sakura’s tone is desperate, her green eyes pleading. When she doesn’t hear an immediate answer from the blonde girl kneeling in front of her, her breaths once again speed up as the pressure in her chest builds.

     Seeing her friend’s condition worsen, Ino yells. “Yes, Yes! I won’t! I won’t tell anyone, I won’t tell, just _breathe_ Sakura!”

     At the admission the tension in Sakura releases and with a gasp she’s able to take a deep breath.

     “Dear gods, I’m making you tea. You’re too shaken to do anything, let alone speak to me like a regular human being,” Ino walks over to her kitchen and searches her drawers for anything resembling tea, but comes up short. The hot water is ready.

     “Gods, I can’t believe you don’t even have tea, this is a nightmare Sakura!”

     She walks back over to Sakura with a hot cup of water, and forces it into her hands. “It might not be tea but that’s your fault,”

     Sakura takes a few sips, but it’s hot water, and who wouldn’t be jolted out of their thoughts from drinking straight up near boiling water.

     Content with the knowledge that her friend is mostly alright, Ino takes a look around.

     “This is where you’re living now, huh,” She walks back into the kitchen that’s conjoined with the living room. She opens her fridge and Sakura can see her visibly flinch at the emptiness. She rustles in her cupboards and finally finds a bag of chips. They’re opened and stale, but she comes back into the living room with them anyway and sets them on the table in front of Sakura.

     “This is to accompany the hot water,” She says, and Sakura huffs a laugh.

     Ino turns back around and makes a round around her living room. She swipes her fingers against the flat surfaces and examines the decor. It isn’t much; quite underwhelming. The only thing mounted on her walls is the mednin’s oath in an unfurled, old looking scroll. Sakura had found it at the market while walking through to get groceries a few days after Tsunade had made her take the oath, and mounted it right in her line of sight when she looks up from studying. Her previously empty bookshelves are slowly filling with medical texts that she’s being given by Tsunade and Shizune as references, and one shelf is dedicated to the jutsu scrolls she’s learned and wants to given to her by Kakashi. At the back of the living room she’s set up an altar on a small table for her parents. In the morning, when the sun rises and shines through the window, it hits the glass and frame and cherry blossom necklaces that she had given her parents (nooses, Outer, those necklaces were nooses), and in the glare it’s like the altar doesn’t exist. She likes those mornings where she can walk in and not immediately fixate on the fact that she’s alone and they’re gone. Those mornings are far and few in between, it’s hard to think that you’re not alone where you wake up on your own in an apartment so small it’s too big.

     “It’s not bad, could use a few more decor pieces, and a TV, but we’ll fix that,” Ino turns back towards Sakura, who’s benefited from the hot cup in her hands. Ino walks to the couch where Sakura is sitting and plops down next to her with her feet on her couch cushions.

     “Good, you’re back to life, now _please_ tell me why I find out that you’ve been living in the Uchiha Compound for 4 days from my grapevine instead of you?” Ino looks patient, but there’s that tick in her knee and the subtle flavor of exasperation on her tone that makes itself known that she isn’t.

     “Ino, I don’t want--,” It's a last ditch effort.

     “Don’t want to talk about it? Nah girl, we’re doing this. Don’t want me here? Sorry Forehead, I’m here, and I’m not budging until I get answers. Don’t want anyone else to be here? Fine, but I’m here, right now, pissed off that you don’t trust me with this,”

     Sakura feels a wall of guilt hit her, so she takes a sip of the hot water in her hands (are you kidding me Outer, hot water, really?).

     “I didn’t know I was going to be there until I was, Ino-pig,” Strangely enough the hot water dries her throat, her voice is raspy.

     “What do you mean by that?! My grapevine had you in the Main Branch House, Sakura, now please tell me how that came about? Sasuke isn’t even _here_ , and you’re getting cozy up with his family?”

     Sakura lets out a short burst of laughter. “I was not, _getting cozy_ , with his family. I didn’t even want to be there,”

     “Now what’s up with that by the way--?” Ino seems to not have heard her. “--I hear this, and I can’t really trust that info, you know, and Dad always says to double check your sources, and if ever in doubt, check yourself. So I go to your house, and look at that I see a ‘FOR SALE’ sign hanging on the mailbox--.”

     Sakura frowns.

     “--So then I got to your mentor, really hard to get to her you know, I was in the waiting room for like 16 minutes before I stormed in, to get your address as to where the fuck you were now. And low and behold I get an address and a cautionary message, and just,--” Ino falters, “--why didn’t you tell me?”

     She sounds so sad and betrayed that it feels like her insides are being sucked through a cold deep hole in her stomach.

     “I couldn’t, really?”

     “I’ve seen you so many times after the Chuunin Exams, and you never thought to mention that this giant, mentally modifying thing happened?” Ino’s gaze is boring into her, and Sakura can’t meet her eyes.

     “I couldn’t, I still can’t really admit it. They’re dead, Ino,” And that admission pushes everything back up. She takes another sip of hot water and tries not to choke.

     “Is that why you ran from me when I first saw you?” Ino asks, her voice unusually soft and quiet.

     Sakura nods, slow, and careful. She’s fine. “Yeah, I was still in the middle of it all. I couldn’t really muster up, energy. To talk, to anyone,”

     Ino grabs the cup out of her hands and pulls her into a hug. Sakura tenses, but Ino doesn’t relent, keeps her hug tight.

     “Tell me this stuff, Ok? We’ve been through some shit, it only seems fair,”

     Sakura hugs back, and it’s tight; she hasn’t been hugged like this in a while. Hasn’t been touched really, other than bruising hits and brief healing touches. The solid contact of another warm, breathing human being is almost like a new feeling. She’ll never take this for granted, never relish this as much as she does now. Ino is hers, she’ll never let her go.

     “I didn’t, don’t really want to talk about it. Everyone is making me talk about them and I just, don’t--Something is wrong, I understand, but I just don’t want--,” Sakura sighs, “Therapy fucking sucks Ino.”

     “You’re going to therapy?” Ino asks, pulling away and using her sleeves to wipe Sakura’s cheeks. Sakura nods in affirmative, and follows Ino’s sleeves with her own palms.

     “Yeah, Dr. Toru. It’s slow going.”

     Ino hums, “How long have you been seeing him? Dad knows him, and I’ve met him once. Supposedly he has an interesting way of confronting ninja patients,”

     “A few weeks. I mean I guess. I don’t have much knowledge or experience in the different methods…” Ino senses Sakura’s hesitation.

     “But, Uchiha Compound, how’d you end up there?”

     “After one of the sessions there was an ANBU member who took me to the Compound. I don’t know why either. Tsunade took me off the roster and hospital duty anyway so I didn’t really have a chance to ask or protest. Someone was apparently examining my living space to make sure I wasn’t living with a pedophile or something,”

     “Well I’m surprised you passed with a clean bill, this place is like a hospital waiting room, no personality at all!”

     “You’re exaggerating, Ino. I just haven’t had the time to properly decorate,”

     “Bullshit Billboard Brow, you’ve been living here for months! This baby should be furnished already. That’s our next task, we’re going to go on a few more missions to get some cash and then furnish!”

     It’s so optimistic. There’s no dwelling on the circumstances that created her situation; no awkward pauses and avoidance. She isn’t being coddled; Ino is taking things in stride and  moving on, treating her exactly the same as before.

     “Now! On to important matters! I’ve been trying to find you for a few days, because I need to ask you something,”

     “What is it?”

     “I’m going to assume you aren’t super excited about the Chuunin exams… but the next exams are in Suna, in like a month,” Ino bites her lip, “Shikamaru can’t participate with us because that asshole went and became chuunin… so can you fill his spot?”

     Sakura is silent. It’s not really a decision that she will say ‘no’ to. She can’t, not without crumbling all of the foundation she’s building. If she says no she is a coward, a weak little girl who only cries and isn’t able to make a change. Isn’t able to protect the people around her. She wasn’t able to protect her parents, and if she says no now, she faces humiliation. That humiliation from being beaten into the floor, sent to therapy, sent to be babysat because she can’t take care of herself. She’s a child, but she became an adult the second she became a genin. She’s not trusted to take care of herself and that’s humiliating.

     “Of course,”

     Ino’s face transforms into a bright smile, and immediately she’s babbling. “Team training sessions are everyday at 3 and last until 6, then we go eat. This is great! I’ll tell Asuma-sensei that you’ll be joining us!”

     The anxiety is still there, that fear that it won’t be enough, she’s worthless and should quit while she’s ahead. She can’t though, backing down is no longer an option, suicidal now. She’ll die if she quits being a ninja, and she’ll die trying to become stronger. There’s no going back now.

* * *

     The next day she wakes up on the cold tile of her bathroom floor still shaking and sweating, but under the prospect of work and training and doing _something_ , the feeling is forgotten as soon as she showers. It’s Friday, and on a usual day she wouldn’t wake up as early  as she had to train with Lee and Guy, but it’s not a usual day, or a usual month. She has the Chuunin Exams to conquer.

     When she reaches the training grounds they’re just about to set out for their daily laps.

     “Sakura-san!” Lee calls out. He’s jogging in place and Sakura increases her pace to catch up to him. Once she does, all three of them set off.

     “It’s wonderful to have our Cherry Blossom for our Youthful Training this fine Morning. Why the change?” Guy asks.

     Sakura is waiting to feel the burn set into her lungs. “I’m participating in the Chuunin Exams.”

     Guy lets out a brilliant laugh and increases their pace. “Well then Youthful Ones, we can’t slack off can we?”

     Lee lets out a triumphant yell in assent and they start _running._

* * *

     Sakura exits that training session with her muscles feeling like the consistency of jelly. She barely manages to drag her feet to the training ground over for her training with Tsunade. When Sakura gets to Training Ground 5, she collapses against one of the trees and tries to put some feeling back into her arms and legs, but eventually gives up. There’s only so much chakra can heal, and simple muscle fatigue unfortunately isn’t one of them.

     Her mentor arrives 10 minutes late (10 glorious minutes where she can recover as much energy as she can before their session), and when she arrives, Sakura is appraised from head to toe for any bruise or scratch. She’s healed all of the wounds she could after taijutsu training with Lee and Guy, but nevertheless there’s the sneaking worry that Tsunade will find something and cancel training for mental health reasons.

     “How was the Uchiha Compound? Mikoto?” She asks, examining Sakura’s eyes and pulling at the skin of her cheeks. Her hands are warm.

     “Good. Really good,” She feels better. The new, concrete goal has her working and her body already so tired that she doesn’t have to sit and fester. Already she feels so much better. Tired, but better.

     Tsunade nods, and is glad to notice that same dim spark, she saw when Sakura first came under her wing.

     “I’d like to request permission to join Ino and Chouji for the Chuunin Exams in Suna,” It comes out of her in a breathless rush. Tsunade raises an eyebrow, and cocks her hand on her hip, but her expression is amused.

     “Permission granted. You need something else?”

     “Can I switch my clinic times? 3 to 6 moved to 6 to 9?”

     “10 to 3 still on?”

     “Yes,”

     “Granted. Anything else?”

     “Can you teach me more offensive skills?” Sakura asks.

     Tsunade’s grin grows even wider at the question and she cracks her knuckles.

     “I thought you’d never ask,” Tsunade says, and lunges.

     Sakura, now out of pure instinct, dodges at the oncoming woman and watches with shock as a tree behind her splinters and bursts into a cloud as Tsunade’s fist collides with it. The woman pauses for a second, and looks towards Sakura.

     “Watch,”

     Sakura doesn’t have much time to admire that cloud, as awesome as it was, since Tsunade turns and lunges at Sakura again. The rock behind her, at the impact of Tsunade’s fist, goes up in another cloud of dust and sharp shards. Sakura’s trying so hard to focus on the exact technique Tsunade’s using, she can’t just be punching the rocks, that she’s almost hit with the other punches her mentor lands on the scenery behind her. Tsunade finally stops when the clearing is a few meters wider in diameter, and craters litter the ground beneath them. She barely looks tired as Sakura sweats like a goddamn pig.

     “What did I do?”

     Sakura out of breath, with her hands on her knees looks up at the question.

     “You punched the rocks with chakra and they shattered,”

     “Alright, try it yourself,” Tsunade nods.

     Sakura takes a step up towards the nearest boulder and pauses. It couldn’t be that simple. Tsunade’s arms look toned, but the strength needed to shatter a boulder of that size...

     Sakura purses her lips and gathers chakra into her fists like she’d seen Tsunade do, and slams her fist into the rock.

     “Fucking! Ow!” Tsunade bursts out laughing as her pink haired student recoils and cradles her hand to her chest.

     “You let your chakra out in a stream didn’t you,” Tsunade asks in between gasps. Sakura cradles her hand starts healing the cracked knuckles and broken skin.

     “You need to let it out in a burst, that’s where the chakra control comes in. It’s not just gather-release, otherwise every ninja on the block would be breaking buildings,”

     Sakura finishes healing her hand and turns towards the rock. “A burst,”

     “Don’t--,” Tsunade begins to say, but Sakura has already gathered chakra into her fists, and punched the rock again. Instead of emitting a steady stream of chakra like she does in her medical chakra, modifying the width of her her chakra pathways upon release to create wave like fluctuations, she opens her pathways as much as she can before trying to slam them shut.

     The resulting effect is monstrous to Sakura. She manages to crack the granite in front of her a little, but monitoring the chakra stream is a painful nightmare. As soon as she opens her pathways it’s like the walls of a dam being slammed open and millions of gallons of water streaming out. It’s the sudden impact of chakra that caused the cracks, but trying to shut the dam is near impossible. It’s _painful_ , the doors that opened need to close just as quickly, and the rush of chakra makes the endings or her chakra pathways burn sharply until the chakra she’s gathered peters out and her pathways close without resistance.

     That’s not to mention the actual pain of her fist hitting full force a giant slab of sharp rock.

     She yells this time with more pain as the chakra endings on her palms _throb_.

     Tsunade walks over to her quickly and takes her hands pulling them up to examine them. Her knuckles are bloody again, but now on her palms are two dark red angry splotches from the chakra burns. She’s gotten a few chakra burns on her fingers from when she’d lapsed in concentration, but neither the pain nor the size had been as severe as it was then.

     “Silly girl! Don’t put all of your chakra into it when you’re learning!” Tsunade scolds, and weaves her own chakra into Sakura’s hands to get a deeper look.. Amongst the nausea of being examined with chakra, Sakura realized that she’d released a good chunk of her reserves in that one punch.

     “I can’t heal chakra burns, but I’m going to numb the surrounding tissue, when I get to the muscle, name it,”

     Sakura holds her breath as Tsunade matches her chakra frequency to Sakura’s. Her sensitivity to the frequencies makes it difficult to concentrate on where exactly Tsunade's chakra is, with the beat frequency messing with her stomach and perception of tiny muscles.

     “Adductor Pollicis,”

     “Good, specifics?”

     “Oblique Head,” Sakura says through clenched teeth, “Transverse Head,”

     “Dorsal interossei, Lumbricales, digiti minimi abductor, opponens, flexor,” Sakura lists as she feels each individual muscle go numb.

     “Good, memorize feet next time,” Tsunade says, pulling her chakra and her hands away. “And wait until I give the go ahead! You shouldn’t have put so much chakra into it on your first try,” Tsunade begins to scold, but there’s concern lacing through her tone as Sakura leans over and tries her best not to vomit. When she overcomes the urge, she stands back up with her vision slightly spinning.

     “I’ll listen better next time, Tsunade-shishou,”

     “You better. I can’t have my apprentice work with numb hands,”

     Sakura grins as she tries to flex her hands.

     “The nausea wasn’t as bad this time, Tsunade-shishou,” Sakura says and Tsunade gives a smug look.

     “Chakra control doesn’t have a limit,” She says, and looks towards the slab of cracked granite. “Good, you got the gist of it. No more today, or you’ll wreck your pathways beyond repair if you keep this up. Unnumb your hands in a couple of hours and read up on chakra burns. You’re going try this again tomorrow with less chakra, start small and we’ll build up before the exams,”

     “What else besides foot anatomy and chakra burns?” Sakura asks, examining the angry splotches on her palms.

     “Have Shizune start you on antidote brewing. Suna is an expert on poisons, you’ll need a few for the Chuunin exams.”

     “Yes Tsunade-shishou.”

     “Good, now scram wench, I have a bottle of sake waiting for me along with a stack of paperwork.”

* * *

     Her training session with Tsunade, shorter than usual, leaves Sakura an hour or two to spare before her clinic hours start. She does the first thing that comes to her mind.

     “Anko-san,” Anko is sitting in the Jounin HQ common room with the same group as she was in the bar last time. She looks up towards the voice in the doorway and grimaces.

     “Haven’t you had enough pinkie?” She asks. There’s more alcohol on the table despite it barely being 9. “How’d you even find, or manage to get into the common rooms?”

     The other ninja on the sofas are looking at Sakura and Anko’s put out expression. Sakura makes eye contact with Genma, who gives her a cheerful wave.

     “They’re not exactly secret, Anko-san,” She says, and Anko gets up.

     “Let’s get this over with Pinkie, the sooner I beat you up the sooner I get to finish my beer.” She turns towards her companions, “I’ll be back in 10 minutes,”

     When they exit the Jounin HQ Anko turns towards Sakura as they start walking towards the training grounds.

     “I’ve gotta give you props kid, you didn’t throw me under the bus,”

     “You’ve been helping me Anko-san, I wouldn’t do that,”

     At that Anko scoffs. “Helping you. I’ve been beating you up every month and a half, how the hell is that helping you?”

     “It’s motivating me.”

     Sakura doesn’t look at Anko when she answers, and the tokubetsu jonin falls silent. It's only when they get to the training grounds that Anko speaks again.

     “You want me to beat you up again today?”

     “Not quite. I’m taking the Chuunin Exams again in a month. As someone who hasn’t pulled punches all that much, what can I work on?”

     The request makes Anko’s eyebrows raise. This is unexpected.

     “I wasn’t taken off the roster, so I guess I’ll humor you. Spar with me again and I’ll refresh my memory on how much you suck. I’ll pull punches, you’ll remain conscious at the end.” She says in reassurance.

     Sakura nods, and draws a few kunai from her pouch.

     The ensuing fight is much tamer than before. She has a few seconds to unnumb her hands and even though her palms burn from chakra usage, she actually has time to throw in her own attacks, and makes sure to use as many techniques she has to give Anko an idea as to her range. Anko attacks back after dodging and blocking Sakura’s attacks, and when Sakura is firmly planted on the ground with Anko’s foot on her sternum and the breath knocked out of her, Anko ends the spar.

     She lets Sakura up and sighs.

     “Well for a genin brat you’re not as shitty as you were before. You’re still slow as fuck, and also super super stiff. Do you even stretch? There’s no flexibility in the slightest, learn to bend. Your aim is decent, could always use work. Taijutsu is alright, a bit on the low side for a chuunin, but decent for a gennin. You’re jutsu speed is shit, but eh,”

     Sakura bites her tongue. “What do you think I can do before the exams?”

     Anko takes a deep breath and lets it out in an audible whistle. “Get your speed up, wear those weights that Guy and his little spawn have, don’t take them off. Uhhm, stretch, a lot, next time you come bugging me for a fight you better be able to do a backbend, otherwise I’m flat out knocking you out. Do the regular stuff, like work on your aim, taijutsu, jutsus, etc. Find some sort of secret technique and use that to your advantage, stand out in the Chuunin exams.”

     She sniffs as Sakura numbs her hands again to stop the burning. “I don’t know Pinkie, does it look like I teach kids often? just be a better ninja.”

* * *

     Clinic hours have Sakura healing bones and scratches and sending concussed patients to a different medic. As much as Sakura wants to fix the concussion, actually use her neurology studies, she’s not allowed to try without Tsunade or Shizune there to monitor. Shizune is doing the hospital paperwork, and preparing for a surgery later in the day that Sakura is allowed to scrub in on and observe, so Sakura can’t fetch her to supervise. She would ask one of the nurses to fetch her, but for some reason they don’t seem to like her all that much.

     After lunch, Shizune brings her down to the lab and there starts another lesson on poisons and antidotes. Shizune gives her an extensive stack of her own personal notes, as well as a thick manual on brewing and concocting generally known poisons and antidotes. When she opens the manual Sakura blanches at the diagrams of chemical compounds. She knows the basics from previous lessons, but this is infinitely more complex. While Shizune goes to finish paperwork, Sakura does what she’s been doing for most of her medical career and reads until her eyes hurt.

* * *

     Sakura eventually pulls herself away from the slowly comprehensible collection of diagrams and equation to meet Team 6 for team training. Team training with Ino and Chouji is the strangest thing she’s experienced to date. There is that slight nagging feeling that she doesn’t fit in, and it immediately shows in their team dynamic.

     It’s obvious why the InoShikaCho dynamic is so powerful. Where Team 7 doesn’t have a specific designation, InoShikaCho specialize in capture and interrogation, have for generations of specifically mastered techniques. Without Shikamaru on their team there’s an obvious hole that Sakura has no ability to fill. She’s training to be a field medic. Her specialty is healing, and maybe poison and maybe strength if she can get those to work. Not capture.

     A lecture from Asuma, who really does pull after the Third Hokage no matter how much he denies it, leaves Team 10 sans Shikamaru plus Sakura with the belief that it’s good practice to work with people they haven’t before, since teams _will_ change. Their team dynamic still sucks though.

     It’s better than Team 7’s, Sakura has to note. When they trained together before, none of them ever really worked together until the last moment. They never truly understood that they were a _team_ , and Sakura regrets only understanding when they got up and left her. On that note, she doesn’t really mind that her temporary new team doesn’t have solid team dynamics, it’s already better than what she’s had before. She’s actually valued here, they’re working _together_.

     Training with Team 10 is a vastly different experience than training with Team 7. Where Team 10 had carefully designed lectures and examples, along with guided training and sets, Kakashi has Team 7 spar with a shadow clone with a brief explanation of a technique, and then a D-ranked mission.

     From Team 10 she learns new maneuvers, actual team maneuvers and even though she likes Team 10, when she leaves dinner somber she wishes that Naruto and Sasuke were there with her.

* * *

     Returning at 10 in the evening from the hospital, she corners Kakashi and tells that she’s taking the Chuunin exams in Suna. He takes a week vacation to help her prep. She isn’t quite sure if he actually took a vacation or if it’s a mandated one, but it fits into her schedule and from 9 to midnight he drills her jutsus and katana skills. He’s trying this time, and even though her body is sore and her chakra is depleted, Kakashi pushes her and pushes her. It’s a gratifying feeling, one that makes the soreness and pain worth it to know he cares.

     “Faster Sakura,” Kakashi says, and kicks her arms from the seal she’s trying to form. Bisuke nips at her heels and Pakkun latches to her sleeve. As demonstrated in her previous spar with Anko, her seal speed is too slow and concentration undivided when it comes to jutsus. She can perform them without question, but when under attack she might as well know none. Kakashi brought out the ninken to help rough her up while she’s running through her jutsus. Kakashi still uses a shadow clone to attack her and disrupt her seals, but the real Kakashi is close by to monitor her progress with the ninken. She doesn’t know how he can read Icha Icha in the dark as intently as he does. They all take turns attacking, forcing her to dodge and continue her seals until she can recite the jutsu in her sleep. As soon as she disrupts the stream of seals, another ninken adds to the mix.

     Along with jutsu work, Kakashi works with her on actual sparring. He doesn’t use a shadow clone for katana work, his stance is serious and when Sakura first starts seriously sparring with him, instead of practicing katas, she realizes this is no joke. He isn’t humoring her.

     Sparring is hard, but sparring with a katana with a dedicated teacher who gives no fucks on excuses in the dark is even harder. Kakashi slows down to a point where he’s only a smidgen faster than Sakura no matter how much her speed increases. She almost wins every single time before Kakashi soundly knocks the blade out of her hands and slices her cheek.

     Weeks go by in such a fashion. She trains with Lee and Guy, practices her punch with Tsunade, works on poisons, antidotes, and healing with Shizune, works on her jutsus and Katana work with Kakashi, and tries her hardest to fix everything Anko found wrong with her. Every night she comes home her head hits the pillows on her couch (courtesy of Ino), and she’s out until the next morning where she repeats the intensive training cycle again. She’s so tired at the end of each day that her mind is too tired to replay her nightmares, but nevertheless she does not sleep in her bed.

* * *

     It’s the day before she has to leave for Suna that Tsunade pulls her aside. All of her training was canceled and the day before her trip is marked as a rest day, but Sakura can’t stay in her apartment and flees to the hospital to observe surgeries. She isn’t allowed to work in the clinic or exert herself in anyway, she she sticks to shadowing.

     It’s still in the operating room with Tsunade’s scrubs covered in blood and the patient being sewn up by the team behind them that Tsunade speaks.

     “In Suna, if something happens to you and your teammates, heal yourself so that you’re stabilized. Then heal your teammates. If you are alone with injured teammates _do not heal them completely._ If the injury is rough and needs more than 5 minutes of organ work and more than half of your chakra, do not heal completely.”

     This order--it is an order, the steel in her mentor’s voice is anything but a plea or request--confuses her.

     “Why wouldn’t I heal them full way if I have the chakra?”

     “Do you know why we use healing teams instead of individuals for intensive healings?”

     “To distribute the work and reduce the amount of chakra one medic uses on the patient,”

     “Yes, but it's not just that,” Tsunade looks weary, older than her appearance suggests.

     “Why then?”

     “You haven’t read much about it, it’s not in a lot of references, but have you heard of the Vincli Effect?”

     At Sakura’s blank stare, she continues. “When a certain amount of a user’s chakra is used in healing a patient, there is an increased risk of the formation of a debilitating bond between healer and patient. The transfer of chakra changes the patients and healers chakra signatures to the point where utilizing the chakra becomes almost impossible. Both people would need to relearn how to control their chakra since the composition has changed, drastically. Since the chakra signature changes, there’s an incredibly high risk of organ failure. Since healings are done through one section of the body, if the change is too drastic, the organs, supported by one form of chakra, will be unable to be supported by another form of chakra, causing distress, and if not treated, failure. There are no current treatments for this, no reversal. So do not, under any circumstance go over half of your chakra for one person.”

     “I won’t, Tsunade-shishou,”

     “I need you to promise Sakura, that you won’t do that.”

     “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whatdaya think???! spill the tea folks


	7. flushed the great height toward which my footsteps fell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eh he, hello!!! again! after two months!!! ilu all  
> life happened, i moved to a different country i don't know the language of, and am smack dab in the middle of applying to college  
> i have not abandoned this story i proMISe, also, itachi will come i promise, i just cant in good conscience throw them together when she's 13 and this mentally unstable, i can't let that happen folks  
> on that note!! enjoy!!

     The morning that Sakura has to leave for Suna with her new team is filled with a stressed sort of anticipation. The night before she had tried to meditate and then force herself to fall asleep, yet failed miserably when a glance at the clock told her that she needed to be up in 4 hours. After various concoctions of heated milk and considerations of putting herself into a short, medically induced coma, she’d managed to fall asleep. That was for around 2 hours until the anxiety and the sun, barely streaming through her bedroom window woke her up (she really needs some curtains). Despite the lack of restful sleep, the minute the sun hits the fingertips of her hand hanging off the bed, she’s as awake as she would be if it was noon.

     She’s leaving the village. For a short time anyways, but she’s  _ leaving _ . She hasn’t left the village since the aftermath of her previous Chuunin exams, when she was weak and oblivious to it. She could leave today and return in a box, or worse, return still a genin with nothing to show but wasted village expenses. What if she hasn’t changed, what if this isn’t enough? What if she leaves and fails her team, a weak little child-adult that shouldn’t be looked after but is. There isn’t anything else she can do at this point, 2 hours before departure, but she’ll try her best, her fucking  _ hardest _ , because there’s no option for failure, it’s worse than death at this point _. _

     Packing and repacking and forcing food down her throat helps distract her a bit. So does leaving her apartment and not glancing at the altar in her living room. Navigating the streets at dawn with a pack on her back, and listing off the nerves from head to toe, also distract her, but when Sakura gets to the gates, there’s still a good half an hour before Team 10 and Asuma arrive. There’s nothing for her to do, except scuff her feet in the dirt and try not to panic at the thought that if she fails so miserably she doesn’t know if she’ll keep living. She needs this one thing, this one promotion to remind her that she isn’t working for nothing, their deaths aren’t for nothing, her tears and blisters and blood and sweat and all things gross are  _ worth something _ , even when she isn’t worth anything.

     So she sits a few meters from the the exit to the village and again, resorts her supplies to keep her breathing steady. Her main bag holds the main necessities, a bedroll, toiletries, extra clothing so that she’s not wearing the same thing for weeks on end. She has items with shorter sleeves and lighter colors that she plans to utilize once they get to the desert and to Suna, along with a strip of light grey cloth to cover her head so she doesn’t die in the desert. She has enough rations to last her a few weeks of travel if used sparingly, just in case, and a large canteen of water. 

     With the news of the exams, her childhood home had finally sold, bringing with it an influx of money that she didn’t quite know what to do with. Her hours at the clinic and pay from in village missions pay her bills, so she does what any ninja would do and splurges the money on sharp, pointy things. Her weapons bag is vastly bigger, with 30 relatively new kunai that she’d broken in with intense aim practice, 50 senbon in a myriad of degrees of poisoned-ness, and 15 shuriken. Her aim with the shuriken isn’t as solid as she would like it to be, but having 1 shuriken is preferable to having none. She has a packet of genin level exploding tags, which she’s just a bit unsatisfied with since they’re not chuunin level. She’d tried to persuade the owner of the store to let her buy the lowest powered chuunin level exploding tags, but under no circumstances did he let her, even if she was going to the Chuunin Exams. She has several smoke bombs and a few flash bombs that should last her through her time in Suna, and if they don’t she’s sure she’ll be able to buy more at the weapons store with the extra cash squirreled away in her bag.

     With all of the standard ninja regalia accounted for, she moves onto her medic pouch. In addition to the standard bandages, gauze, needle and thread, general antiseptic, gloves, tweezers, etc., Tsunade had added a relatively strong topical anaesthetic, along with increased dosage painkillers. She’d also handed Sakura sunscreen and some aloe.  _ For the burns _ , she’d said. Tsunade had also given her a small packet of an odorless, flavorless paralytic of her own design-- _ And you don’t get the recipe now, you’ll get it when you come back promoted _ \-- and said that it could be used to slip in people's drinks, but she  _ really shouldn’t do that since one, you shouldn’t be consuming alcohol in the first place, and two, even be fighting the good people of Suna not in the combat ring _ . If she does that and causes trouble and paperwork Tsunade promised to take away her clinic hours and training sessions. The paralytic binds to the potassium in the blood and causes hypokalemia, and then further complications if it isn’t treated. She could dissolve it in water and coat her kunai and senbon in it, but if she did that she’d need to be extremely careful that the temperature doesn’t rise before it makes contact with the body she’s hitting.

     It’s a nice gift, a peculiar one, that Sakura doesn’t know what she’ll do with quite yet, but it gives her some ideas for the future.

     The paralytic is stored in in a separate pouch given to her by Shizune. In that pouch are several vials of poisons, ranging from hallucinogens to paralytics to things that generally fuck with the organ systems. She only has a few vials that she’s brewed herself, everything else was graciously given to her by Shizune, along with common antidotes to poisons she might encounter in Suna, as well as the antidotes to her own poisons.

     Now that she’s looking at her pack in broad daylight, she should really move the antidotes into her med kit instead of her poison pack. Wouldn’t want to accidentally kill a teammate trying to heal them.

     She wasn’t really expecting anything from Kakashi before she left. He treated her for Okonomiyaki, (they don’t go to Ichiraku’s anymore) and told her to have fun, then vanished with a poof. Sakura had been assuming that not leaving her with the bill was her going away gift before the exams, but then she found the katana on her living room/dining room table. 

     It’s the one Kakashi always brought with him to let her practice with, and the only qualification it had for being a practice sword was it’s dullness. This morning she found it sharpened and oiled on her table with a sticky note with Kakashi’s classic henohenomoheji signature taped to the hilt. 

     She unslings the katana from her side and examines it in the rising sun. The sheath is worn, the dark lacquer dull in spots and shiny in others. The hilt, which she now notices in the sun, is wrapped in light gray cloth, and at the base of the blade, the initials H.K. are inscribed almost messily into the metal. There’s another smudge and when she looks closer, in even tinier, but much straighter and even handwriting, are the initials H.S. On the tassel, previously only dark gray, is an additional strand, only pink.

     Sakura’s throat doesn’t close up at all.

     “Geez, you look like you’re going off to war,” Says a voice in front of her and Sakura looks up. In front of her stands a shinobi that she vaguely recognizes. His spiky black hair brushes down to his cheeks and a white bandage covers his nose. He’s wearing a chuunin vest. She knows him, seen him before around the Hokage tower and with Anko when she’s drinking.

     “Well then at least I’m prepared,” She says, and starts packing everything away, strapping the pouches, packs and katana onto her person.

     “You’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes, what are you waiting for?” 

     “My teammates, we’re leaving the village at 7,” Sakura says, and stands up, brushing off the dust off her thighs.

     “You have like, I don’t know, an hour to spare, why are you here so early?” Asks the man again.

     “I couldn’t sleep,” Sakura says, shrugging.

     Before the chuunin can ask anything else, another shinobi appears behind him and knocks the other on the back of the head. He also seems vaguely familiar.

     “We have guard duty Kotetsu! Stop slacking off! What are you doing?!” The other chuunin wears his hitai-ate like a hat, his bangs cover one of his eyes. Sakura wonders when emulating Kakashi became popular.

     “I’m talking to the kid that bothers Anko every now and then! You know the one she calls kid but vehemently denies being attached to? Even though she still follows her out to beat her up?”

     Sakura has to laugh in embarrassment.

     “Oh! Huh that is her, can’t really miss the pink hair. What’s your name kid?” 

     “Haruno Sakura, gennin,” she says, and tries not to fidget her arms too much.

     “I’m Hagane Kotetsu, and this lump is Kamizuki Izumo, we’re both chuunin,”

     “And we should be on guard duty, since that’s our mission, for which we get paid. And as much as I like living with you I really do want an apartment to myself sometime soon,” Izumo’s arm, which had slipped to Kotetsu’s side doesn’t budge, and the other ninja nudges him roughly with his shoulder.

     “Aww Izumo, don’t say that, I know you have the funds to move out but won’t, stop putting up an act,”

     Sakura feels slightly like she’s intruding.

     “I’ve seen you guys around the Hokage tower,” She says, trying to break the subject of domesticity.

     “Ah yeah, we’re Tsunade’s errand boys, honestly the worst job in existence,” Kotetsu says, and Izumo again hits him in the back of his head.

     “Take pride in your responsibilities, we have one of the cushiest shinobi jobs and get to help the Fifth Hokage in running the village,”

     “Yeah yeah, and go get her more sake and bring the chairs that she’s thrown out the window back up,”

     “She does like to throw chairs,” Sakura smiles, “Shizune-san didn’t let her do desks since the one in the office is a relic from the First Hokage,”

     “You’re her secretary or something right?” Kotetsu asks. Sakura feels the telltale iron taste of blood as she bites her tongue.

     “No, I’m her apprentice,” 

     “Wait I thought her apprentice left for the chuunin exams already?” Kotetsu looks confused and Izumo closes his eyes and visibly, counts to 10.

     “Her secretary left for Mist, for vacation, Kotetsu,” Izumo says, “She has brown hair and looks relatively mousey, remember? Tsunade said we wouldn’t miss her apprentice,”

     “Yes, Rika-chan went to Mist. I’m here waiting for my team to go the chuunin exams,”

     “Ah! Well I guess we didn’t miss you. Who knew the kid bothering Anko was the same one who Tsunade decided to take as an apprentice,”

     Sakura swallows away the blood and smiles.

     “When you get back we should totally spar sometime, right Izumo?” 

     “Sure, we’d love to see what the Fifth Hokage’s apprentice is made of, especially if Anko gives her the time of day,”

     Despite the sudden dryness of her throat, (coward Outer, you’re a coward, get strong enough to spar with people other than Kakashi’s shadow clone at half speed), she nods. “Sure thing,”

     Sakura is saved from further promises by a voice,

     “Hey Forehead! You’re actually early!”

     She turns and sees Ino walking towards her waving her arms, Chouji and Asuma trails behind her. 

     “Ooh! You get to sign out now,” Kotetsu says, and pulls a clipboard from his thigh and hands it to Sakura as Team 10 approaches.

     “ _ Now  _ you decide to do your job?” Izumo grumbles beside him as Sakura signs her name and date.

     Once Izumo and Kotetsu have gone back to their posts with a cheerful wave in Sakura’s direction, Asuma pulls his team aside.

     “Alright, we’re heading straight for Suna. Southwest through Land of Rivers, we do have documents for that. All of you are packed, weapons stocked, family notified?” Asuma asks, and Sakura plays with the cut on her tongue, and nods along with Ino and Chouji.

     “Good, let’s get you all into chuunin rank. Shall we?” Asuma asks, and passes through the gates into the forest beyond.

     Sakura is last to exit. She stays staring up at the gates with the Konoha leaf symbol and the Land of Fire emblem burned into them. The last time she exited these gates, she almost died, Kakashi almost died, Sasuke almost died, Naruto almost died. Watching Team 10’s retreating backs, she hopes that she’ll be strong enough this time to help, to make sure they don’t die.

     She runs after Team 10, and imagines that she’s catching up to them.

* * *

     Traveling gets boring exactly half an hour after they leave the village. The excitement and apprehension that Sakura first felt upon leaving the gates behind fades as soon as her paranoia is left unfulfilled. 

    The foliage is thick, the branches are strong and sturdy as the group leaps through the trees. They’ve agreed to run for a bit to wake up fully, and then join back up with the main road that will take them to Tanigakure. Sakura is alert the minute they leave Izumo and Kotetsu behind guarding the gates, and Ino and Chouji rub at their eyes and lazily chew on chips. Asuma seems to be the only one truly awake, and not in Sakura’s overactive adrenal gland way, but that’s to be expected of a jounin. 

    Their sprint is filled with Ino complaining about how early it is to be sweating, and Choji nodding along after her. Sakura doesn’t particularly mind the early wake up, she’s used to less sleep, and now she doesn’t feel as guilty for not running with Rock Lee and Guy this morning. She tries to use as little chakra as possible to stick to the branches and propel herself forward. It’s a nice mental exercise that starts off with the worry that she will need to for a fight in a few hours, and once the green scenery gets monotone and dreary, it’s a good exercise to help her fight off the boredom while experimenting with chakra outputs. The burn in her thighs and calves is a nice reminder that she’s working. 

     Once they’ve truly entered the forest, Sakura immediately notices how easy it is to lose Asuma in the foliage, with his dark green, and black attire, along with brown hair. Chouji and Ino stand out, but it’s easier to lose Chouji, the dark green of his jacket melds into the trees. Ino is a bit easier to spot, with the purple of her skirt and crop top. The pale skin of her arms and legs is covered by mesh, which breaks apart the colors to blend her in, but her blonde hair and fair skin are fair giveaways of a person traveling through forest. Sakura has opted for the green turtleneck she’s worn since the Chuunin exams, and black shorts. She’s also wearing knee high boots, and as is customary for ninja, they’re open toed. It’s one of the first purchases she had made with Ino after the exams. 

     Her hair is the only thing that truly bothers her. It’s bright pink, and even though her body is mostly camouflaged, her head is a blinding target. While sprinting she ties her hair up into a ponytail, and digs out the cloth she’d taken with her for Suna’s desert. She attaches the dark grey fabric to her turtleneck and drapes the fabric over her head like a cowl. When she first does this in the first 10 minutes upon leaving the village, the paranoia is thick. 

     As soon as Ino starts complaining more about the speed at which they’re going, Asuma slows down and they turn towards the main road to Tani. They still have a few days of travel, but the main road is the fastest while walking. 

     Despite Sakura’s fears, there are no bandits, no foreign shinobi waiting to attack. Only her new team and the packed road beneath their feet.

     Day one of travel passes quickly. They stop for lunch and they stop for dinner. They camp out a ways away from the main road.

     “Chouji, Sakura, start setting up camp. Ino, you’re with me for water and firewood,” Asuma delegates, and Ino starts to complain.

     “Asuma-sensei, why am  _ I _ going for firewood?!” 

     “Because you’ve been complaining all day, and a little more arm muscle on you won’t kill you.”

     Ino groans, but follows Asuma into the trees.

     Chouji and Sakura work on rolling out packs and getting ready to prep food. With him, Chouji has a wide collection of collapsible pots and pans, as well as a wide range of food. Not only does he have the standard ration bars and soldier pills, but in addition to the standard non perishables in Sakura’s bag like nuts, dried fruit, and jerky, he has fresh fish, meat, eggs, uncooked rice, and several vegetables.

     “Where did you keep those?!” Sakura asks as he magically procures those items out of thin air.

     “Can’t tell you, Sakura-san, clan secret,” Chouji laughs, and opens another bag of chips to munch on as he arranges what they’ll eat for tonight.

     “Chouji we’ll be out here for a good week or so, you have enough fresh produce to last for a month! How are you expecting it to stay fresh?” Sakura asks bewildered.

     “Preservation seals.” Chouji answers, and points out a scribble on the brown paper the meat is packed in. “The Akimichi can’t go without food,” 

     Sakura examines the scribble. It’s different than the medical seals in Tsunade’s office and in the ORs, but maybe a certain squiggle looks familiar. She isn’t sure.

     She hums, and watches as Chouji preps for the meal.

     Ino and Asuma come back, the blonde’s arms laden with their water packs and Asuma’s with the firewood. Ino loses her annoyed glare once she see’s dinner on the pan, waiting for firewood. 

     “Hell yeah! Chouji’s cooking!”

     The next morning they depart an hour after sunrise. There was no delicious breakfast waiting for them, as Asuma decided against waiting for Chouji to cook something appetizing. They feast on ration bars and water, and then pack up and sprint for another hour or so. 

     4 days pass in such a manner until they reach Tani. By then the Konoha tree line has thinned and shrunk. The hills rose and the valleys deepened. They cross the border with little trouble, stopping in at a border post that verified their paperwork. 

     Tani is smaller than Konoha, there’s more grass and less paved street. The houses are small and the river cut its way through the middle of the city (village?). There in Tani, they get 2 rooms in an inn near the village center. 

     The plan is to stay there for the night, restock on supplies, then leave for the Land of Wind. Ino and Sakura share a room, and Asuma and Chouji share another. Food is provided, and hot water included, and compared to the hard bed rolls, and ration bars, everything is good.

     The morning they leave the inn, Sakura buys herself a proper, deep green cowl. They’re being escorted out by a bored looking group of genin, when Sakura noticed the cowl stored away in a quaint looking shop. The fabric is soft and light, and while it’s a bit too dark of a green for Tani, and most likely too dark for Suna, it’s perfect for the Konoha forests. While Sakura had bought her cowl, Chouji bought more food and Ino more hairpins that she kept losing, and after they were deposited outside of the village boundaries. A third of the way there, they set off towards the Land of Wind.

     The hills slowly petered out and the trees began to thin and cease until they were mostly walking through plains. The hills were gentle, and the grass was tall, and the lack of trees and cover unnerved Sakura to her core after being surrounded by forest all her life. They reached and passed the border to Wind the day after they left Tani, and reached the last village before the desert in which Suna lay. There, they met an escort that would take them to Suna, who advised them to cover up. Sakura’s new favorite cowl was replaced with one in a lighter shade, and the skin not covered by the lightest clothes she had was draped in linen.  _ The desert is not a joke _ , she’d been told. Ino, much to her displeasure was forced to cover up her hair and most of her skin as well with the thick linen, and when night fell, they set off towards Suna.

     In an unexpected turn of events, the night did not stay cool. It turned freezing. The thick linen that Sakura was first skeptical of was her best friend, and speeding up the chakra in her veins was the only reason why she was sure she hadn’t frozen yet. She was about to get out one of her warmer shirts when the man who was escorting them stopped her. It was dawn.

     When the sun rose they were in the middle of the desert, and almost immediately, as soon as the sun had risen, it was  _ hot _ . Suddenly the linen was thick and unnecessary, but also the skin on her hands was burning and her being in the desert was unnecessary. Sakura’s open toed shoes were not helpful in the slightest, and Sakura could feel herself getting blisters no matter how much she reinforced her skin with chakra. It’s 3 miserable, freezing, boiling, disgusting days after entering the desert at a snail’s pace does Suna suddenly rise from nothingness. 

     They reach Suna in the early hours of the morning when the moon is still high in the sky. There they are met with a blonde girl her giant fan strapped to her back. Sakura remembers Shikamaru facing her in the Chuunin exams, Temari. Ino and Chouji seem to remember her too, and Ino grins in an almost condescending manner. Sakura elbows the girl in her side. Ino’s innate jealousy to anyone pretty, a girl, and blonde. It begins.

     “Be polite, we’re guests here,” She hisses under her breath.

     “I’m Sabaku no Temari, trainee ambassador to Konoha, guide to the Konoha ninja for the duration of the Chuunin exams,”

     “Sarutobi Asuma, and Team 10,” Introduces Asuma.

     “Yamanaka Ino,” Ino says and places her hands on her hips.

     “Akimichi Chouji,” he says, and eats another chip from the ever present bag.

     “Haruno Sakura,” Sakura says and bows, quick and short.

     “Where’s the Nara?” Temari asks, glancing at the group. Asuma answers for them.

     “He’s on a mission in Kiri,” 

     Temari hums, and wrinkles her nose, then turns around to make their way into the village. The steep rocky slope is tricky on open toed shoes and on a distracted mind trying to listen to the information pelted at them. Temari skips the pleasantries.

     “Suna works on a biphasic schedule. Business is most active around dawn and dusk, and is dead with the sun’s at its highest around 3 and when it’s coldest also, around 3. The city of Suna strongly encourages visitors to abide by the biphasic schedule to avoid medical complications.”

     “The city of Suna is divided into 8 sectors, with the main political functions placed in the middle of the village. Training grounds are up on the cliffs. Guards are posted at all times, and can be found in white shemaghs. They will be monitoring your stay in Suna, and will not trouble you unless you trouble them, or the village.”

     They’re in the village streets, and the sheer monotony of it all is strange to Sakura. The village is quiet, like Temari said, most businesses are empty with the vendors napping in back rooms. The ground is hard packed sand and dirt, the buildings are rounded and sand covered. Everything is the same pale shade of tan that Sakura knows in the light of day, in their green and brown attire, Team 10 will stand out like a sore thumb. The new scenery is vastly different to Konoha’s tall, colorful, rectangular buildings and asphalt paved streets. 

     “How long did it take you to memorize that?” Ino asks, and it’s far from being inquisitive, and more closer to being interrogative.

     Temari scowls at the blonde. “It’s my job. Unlike you, I’ve been promoted enough to warrant one.” 

     Ino scowls right back at her.

     “Here is the inn you’ll be staying at, I’ll come pick you up for a formal tour of the village at 4pm tomorrow. Enjoy your stay.” 

     Tired and sand-beaten, Team 10 and Sakura make their way to the rooms and sleep.

* * *

     When they wake it’s around noon. A look out of the small windows shows the streets to be populated, with vendors at their wares and kids running around. It’s not as boisterous as Konoha, there’s a slight edge to the people that Sakura notices while gazing out from above. Every now and again she’ll see a group a group of Iwa ninja, in their earthy browns, and Ame ninja in waterproof dark greys and blacks. The new ninja in the village must be what has been setting the civilians off. Every now and then she sees a ninja in a white shemagh and a sandy vest pass through the crowd, and the villagers stiffen. It’s a tenser atmosphere than Sakura is used to.

     When Ino finally gets up and finishes primping, and no matter what she says Sakura will not be putting on makeup in a climate like Suna, she’s seen enough of Ino’s runny, sweaty mascara in the desert, they cross the hall to the room Asuma and Chouji share. Upon knocking, the girls realize that both Asuma and Chouji will still be out for a good while. They travel down the steps into the foyer and begin exploring. The highest floor is the second, which is where their rooms are located, the first holds the foyer and reception desk, as well as a breakfast room. A door to the back reveals stairs upon stairs of levels going beneath the earth. When they get to the near bottom, Sakura is sort of glad that they’re above the ground, and not floors beneath it. By the time they make it back up the steps from the deepest floor, the heat has gotten to them. In the deep recesses of the inn, which turned out to be much larger than previously assumed, it’s cool, and almost cold. But almost immediately upon exiting the basement doors into a level or two beneath the earth it gets progressively warmer, to where the girls are glad that they’re wearing light clothing.

     “Gods, what is with the temperature changes!” Ino says while they make their way back into the foyer. There’s a fair amount of sand near the entrance and the air in there compared to the basement levels is beginning to stifle. 

     “At least we’re not living in the basements, Ino-pig,” Sakura says, rubbing the sweat off her nose.

     “I don’t know Forehead, compared to this now, I’d rather be cold than sweating,” Ino says and starts fanning herself with her hand. Maybe it would nicer to be cooler, but it would also be nicer not to get buried under piles and piles of bedrock with no way to escape. 

     “Come on, let’s wake up Chouji and Asuma-san, we should eat before Temari-san picks us up,” Sakura says, and starts making her way towards the stairs to the second floor.

     “Ugh, fine, let’s get them up. It’s way too hot here,” Ino’s mood sours considerably when Sakura mentions Temari, and she immediately remembers her question.

     “You don’t like her?” 

     “Hell no!” Ino squawks.

     “Why not? She hasn’t done anything to us yet? Plus at the moment we’re allies with Suna,”

     “Yeah yeah, I know, I know,” Ino waves her hands dismissively.

     “We also wouldn’t be getting the information we got when we entered, and neither would we be placed in this building if we weren’t trusted. Suna’s showing a weakness right now by placing us here,”

     Ino jerks her head up and looks at Sakura, “How do you know?”

     “Temari-san told us about the biphasic schedule. By saying when they’re most active and not shows when the village is weakest on normal days. By placing us here, she’s allowed us to see Suna’s actual structure. Did you notice how small and flat Suna looked when we first entered?”

     “Yeah, so? They’re a small village,” Ino says as they begin tracking up the stairs.

     “They look like they’re small, but did you see how deep we went?” Sakura asks, and Ino gains a contemplative look on her face. “If the village was small and weak, they wouldn’t be hosting the exams this season. Sure they’re not as big as Konoha, or have as many ninja, but they’re well protected in the structure of their village. It probably spans deep beneath the sand like we’ve seen,”

     “Fair point…,”

     “I don’t really know the political climate between the other villages and Suna--,” Sakura grimaces for a moment, “--but I don’t think the teams from Ame, Kiri, or Iwa have gotten the same treatment. They’ve probably been placed into traveller inns with no deep basements like our building,”

     “Sure, whatever, Suna is showing weakness,  Asuma-sensei will probably write in the report, but I still don’t like her,”

     “Why?”

     “She got promoted!” Ino says,

     “That’s a weak reason to be annoyed Ino and you know it,”

     “Still, if she got promoted because Shika beat her ass in the exams I’m royally pissed,”

     “Suna probably had their own village exams, Ino, I’m sure it wasn’t from the match back in October,”

     “Whatever, she and Shika have been penpalling,”

     “So you’re jealous?” Sakura asks incredulously,

     “No!” Ino yells, and smacks Sakura’s arm, “Ugh, noo, I’ve seen Shika in diapers, I wouldn’t be able to muster up romantic feelings even if I was threatened with death,”

     “Then why are you so worked up by the fact that they’re writing to each other?”

     “Because, I am! Shika actually reads and writes letters back! It’s  _ weird _ !” Ino whines, and they’re knocking on Asuma and Chouji’s door. “She’s like, made him more motivated or something, and Shika is  _ never  _ motivated, only to get out of stuff,”

     “Ino you’re making a bigger deal than you have to. What are you going to do? Fight your matches and glare at Temari all the while in the stands?”

     When the door doesn’t open, Ino picks a bobby pin out of her hair and starts fiddling with the lock and opens the door for them. They walk in arguing.

     “I won’t do that!”

     “Ino you will, you so totally will. Forget about Temari as more than our guide and acquaintance for now. Focus on the exams!”

     “I will, Forehead!” Ino says, and starts dragging the covers off of Chouji. Asuma wasn’t in his bed, but the bathroom door is closed. “Chouji get up! I’m gonna steal your snacks if you don’t wake up!” She grabs a pillow and hits him on the back.

     Chouji rolls over. “Ino, please, not my snacks,”

     “Then wake up!!” Ino says, and when Chouji doesn’t stir, she walks over to his bag and starts rummaging. As soon as she pulls out the bag and opens it with a satisfying crinkle, Chouji’s eyes shoot open.

     “Ino you wouldn’t,” Sakura says, watching Chouji beginning to wake up as his teammate opens the small window.

     “I won’t eat them Chouji, but I will throw them out the window! Get up!”

     As soon as Chouji sees that Ino’s truly about to dump the chips out the window, he jerks up and tackles her before she has a chance to extend her hand. “Never Ino! Never!”

     Ino goes down with a screech and Sakura watches with thinly veiled amusement.

     Eventually, they’re all dressed and fed, and now wait in the foyer for Temari. Sakura feels the itch in her palms from a lack of intensive training. They have few days before the official start of the exams, and Sakura doesn’t know if she’ll be able to wait those few days before needing to punch something. 

     Temari arrives exactly at 4, and with little preamble other than the standard almost required pleasantries of an ambassador/guide, they set off. The village was just getting out of the heat spell, and the vendors were beginning to sell their wares again. The street wasn’t full, but it wasn’t empty either. It was still hot enough to put a sheen of sweat on Sakura’s skin, but there was no wind to cool her off or buffet her with sand. Temari was cordial, blunt, and pointed out shops and landmarks of historical significance. In the middle of the village she points to the giant dome building.

     “This is the tallest building in Suna, the Kazekage residence and office. Other administrative operations are performed on various floors. You will report here for the exams at 5 in the morning after tomorrow in teams of three.”

     “Are the buildings built round?” Asks Sakura.

     Temari glances at her, as if she wasn’t expecting the question. “At first, in the first founding of the village they weren’t. Suna built square buildings for the stability, but the village is also on the path of many sandstorms. Those sandstorms kept on wearing away the edges to make the buildings rounded, so eventually the builders redesigned most of the buildings into orb like structures,”

     “They tore the buildings down?”

     “No, they just added the rounded and reinforced edges, you can see some of the older buildings have the rectangular shape but have additional builds to make it safer from the wind,”

     “How often to do sandstorms come through?” Asks Chouji, trying to make sure sand hasn’t made it’s way into his open chip bag.

     “Every week or so, you’ll definitely see one or two before you leave.” There’s a glint in Temari’s eyes that Sakura doesn’t trust.

     They continue on their tour. 

     “The arena is behind the Administration building, it’s easy to spot so we won’t go searching for it,” Temari says, motioning towards the back of the building they stand in front of. 

     They stop in front of a small flat building with the kanji for water painted on the front.

     “This is the entrance to the cool springs. Suna has a wide reservoir that cools the underground buildings and is the main source of water for the village. It connects with several other oases in the area around 50 miles from the village.”

     “You are free to use the cool springs to cool off and meet the locals, this place is popular with many.”

     “The shinobi population as well?” Ino asks, looking contemplatively at the entrance to the springs.

     “The shinobi population as well.” Temari confirms, and glances at Ino with a raised eyebrow. “The entrance to the springs is down below, through the checking area and down a good number of steps,”

     “Are you well acquainted with the shinobi population?” Ino asks, and Sakura can hear in the tone of voice that Ino’s prodding. Sakura pinches her blonde friend’s arm but the other slaps her hand away. 

     “As daughter to the Kazekage, advisor to him, and one of the candidates for the position, I  _ am  _ well acquainted with the shinobi population,” It seems that Temari decided not to ignore Ino’s insinuating barb.

     “Training grounds?” Asuma asks before the girls can start an international incident.

     Temari breaks away her glare and resets herself and starts walking towards the center of the village.

     “Suna doesn’t have formal training grounds, generally the shinobi train on the cliffs above the village and in the desert beyond. You are welcome to also use that area for the duration of your stay.”

     Temari feeds them at a local restaurant and the food is nothing that Sakura has had before. Everything on the menu is foreign and everything is spicy. There are various lizards, caramelized, grilled, along with various desert fruit that Sakura hasn’t seen before. It’s all delicious, but the spice on even the mild dishes is enough for Sakura to numb her tongue for a short while after eating.

* * *

     After Temari shows them how to get to the training grounds, and largely leaves them alone after that. Ino is more than happy when she leaves, but Sakura is stuck on what Temari said on the sandstorms. After Temari brings them back to their inn, she gives them free reign of the village streets and says that if they need help to just make a sign and a guard will help out. They split up after that with the strict warning from Asuma not to cause any trouble. Asuma goes off for additional business Tsunade had for him while in Suna, he makes a way towards the administrative building/Kazekage buildings. Chouji makes leaves to make a round around the various restaurants in the village. The Akimichi name travels far in the food business, and as next clan head, Chouji is expected to make his rounds whenever he gets to a new village. Even in the restaurant they ate at, due to Chouji being recognized, their bill was reduced by half and the quantity and type of food increased.

     Ino tried to persuade Sakura to go to the cool springs with her.

     “Come on Forehead! For the experience!”

     “Ino you know you’re not going for the experience, you’re doing this because of Shikamaru,”

     “Am not! I just want to see how many of the male shinobi are very well acquainted with Temari,”

     “That’s doing this for Shika, are you sure you’re not jealous?”

     “Ugh Forehead, no! I just want to make sure Shika isn’t putting all his eggs into one basket. That means investigating Blondie while we’re here,”

     “That means you’re doing it for Shika. You know you’re blonde too right? And blonder than she is?”

     “She has those weird ass pigtails, I can call her Blondie if I want to. So what do you say? Come with? I brought an extra bathing suit,”

     “Wait what? You brought a bathing suit? And an extra one?” Sakura looks at Ino incredulously.

     “Yes! Come with!”

     “Ino we’re here for the Chuunin exams, in the middle of the desert, why did you bring your bathing suit?”

     “It’s always good to be prepared, Forehead, plus they barely took up space,”

     “No Ino, I’m not going to the springs with you, I have some stuff Tsunade wanted me to do,”

     “Oh geez, not you too, was I the only one who was sent off with a hug and a ‘have fun!’?” Ino asks, but drops Sakura’s arm, “This is supposed to be a vacation too you know!” 

     “Ino, I’m serious, I don’t think I’ll be any fun while the exams are in session,”

     “Oh fine, go work and train and stuff, I’ll just go ahead and have some fun at the springs,” Ino says, and stalks off.

     She really did have order from Tsunade, she wasn’t lying. She starts making her way towards the relatively small hospital that Temari had pointed out.

     It’s much smaller than Konoha General, and when she walks into the air conditioned room it’s obvious that the number of personnel is lacking. The nurses all seem haggard and tired, more so than nurses usually are, and there seem to be too little of them. She only sees a few doctors, and even less trainees and apprentices like herself. She makes her way towards the nurse’s desk.

     “I’m looking for Chiyo-baasama?” Sakura asks the nurse, and the tired woman looks at her.

     “What?”

     “I’m looking for Chiyo-baasama?”

     “You’re looking for her?”

     “Yes,”

     “Are you sure you want to see her?”

     “Yes, I’m under orders,”

     The woman raises her eyebrows and then sighs. “She’s next door,” 

     Confused, and now suspicious, Sakura thanks the woman and makes her way towards where she was directed. The door she exits leads her into a passage obviously made out of sand; A sort of sand hallway. At the end of the hallway, about 100 meters, is another door. It’s not the same as the hospital doors, this one is more homely. She decides not to risk it and knocks.

     There’s a few seconds of silence before the door opens and she’s met with a head of red hair. 

     Her reaction is instantaneous (good Outer!), and she flinches back from Gaara as he opens the door (baaad Outer). She remembers facing him with shaking knees and sweaty palms as the tailed beast in him raged. Being pinned and knocked out against a tree, the strength in his sand.

     Gaara doesn’t make any sort of remark other than raising his chin and taking a breath.

     “How can I help you?” The words are spoken quietly, and it’s obvious the phrasing isn’t familiar to him.

     It takes a second for Sakura to answer, but in the second she takes, she arranges her limbs into a way that doesn’t immediately scream that she’s going to run away. “I’m looking for the Poison Mistress,” 

     Gaara steps away from the door and lets her in. He doesn’t say anything after, only walks into a different room. Sakura follows after him and tries to steady her pounding heart. Of all the people she was expecting to see, Gaara was not one of them.

     When she follows him into the second room she hears the voice of an old lady.

     “So? Who was it? Did they leave?”

     “No, Grandmother,” Gaara says, and that sets Sakura for a loop. Grandmother?

     “Gaara why did you let her in? You’re supposed scare everyone away!” The woman complains as Sakura enters the room. The old lady is sitting at a desk covered in a myriad of papers and vials.

     “She asked for the Poison Mistress, Grandmother,” Gaara said and the woman raises her eyebrows as Sakura faces her.

     “You know the Slug Princess, girl?” Chiyo asks as Gaara goes and sits by the window, he has his own small desk there, laden with papers.

     “Tsunade-shishou is my mentor. I’m Haruno Sakura,--” Chiyo snorts,

     “You were born with pink hair and your parents name you after a pink flower?” Sakura bites her cheek and stores any emotion down in the pit of her gut.

     “Yes,”

     “Well what do you need pink flower? Since you’re with Tsunade you must not be a total waste of time,”

     “I was wondering if I would be able to take a look at some of your original poison works. I’d like to work on some of my own, and Tsunade-shishou recommended that I speak to you while I am in Suna,”

     “Well at least the Princess respects her Elders, unlike some,” Chiyo grumbles, throwing a glare towards the curtained covered window of the outside. “How long have you been with Tsunade?”

     “3 months,”

     Chiyo hums, “I’ll lend you some of my lower stuff.” She gestures towards Gaara, “Get the purple scrolls off the 3A shelf would you?” Gaara nods and leaves the room. When he returns, he hands the scrolls to Sakura and she immediately stores them at her hip.

     “Is that all, Girl?” Chiyo asks. Sakura wasn’t aware the meeting was ending so soon.

     “Uhm, yes, thank you,” Sakura clears her throat. “I’ll deliver these back before I leave,”

     “Do so,” Chiyo says, “Gaara, escort her out will you, dear?”

     Gaara nods, and before he has a chance to touch her arm to escort her out, Sakura is walking to the door through which she entered.

     When she exits back into the hallway, she turns around and gives Gaara a quick bow and a thank you, before she practically sprints back into the hospital.

* * *

     When she exits the hospital, the first thing she does is make her way towards the cliffs above the village, finds a secluded area, and punches rocks until her knuckles bleed. Her chakra endings have gotten stronger, enough shatter medium sized rocks so that when she leaves the clearing the cliffs are a few meters deeper than before.

     She wasn’t expecting to see Gaara today. She knew he was in Suna, where else would he be, but she wasn’t expecting him to be  _ here _ . The memory of him so easily disarming her, knocking her out, it’s frustrating, humiliating. She flinched too, she showed that she was scared. The rocks fall away from her fists. She’s so easily spooked, she has no need to be, he’s not allowed to hurt her right now, he’s in control. 

     Gods why is she a coward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whadaya think? also, this team is the original team 10


	8. it showed me where the great dawn-glories strike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI HAPPY NEW YEAR  
> this chapter is late as SHIT, man but new year, hopefully a decent update schedule? this chapter is long as shit since i forced the entirety of the chuunin exams into one chapter since it pisses me off when other people don't do that and i have to wait for a long time to finish an arc,  
> in the span of the time i was gone, i applied, and got accepted into college, (HELL YEAH) so now that im not faced with the immediate crippling anxiety that i will never become a doctor, i can spend a bit more time developing sakura.  
> this chapter also took a long time since i considered for a long while if i should diagnose sakura with DID to explain inner, but since the diagnosis barely fits, i decided to leave inner be, and slowly just integrate her back into outer as she finds herself, since alREADY I WANNA FIT TOO MANY TROPES AND THINGS IN  
> personally, this chapter was really fricking hard, since its less introspective psychological analytical shit that i'm best at, and more action, chuunin exams type of thing, but gaara has a prominent role (not gaasaku, i promise, i swear, itachi interaction is next chapter, their friendship((-->romance)) will be developing soon i sWEAR)  
> ENJOY!!!

The thing about the future is that as much as she might plan for it, it never figures out the way she wants it to. Each action spins its own crossroads, each action after that its own web. There are too many people, too many actions, too many outcomes. She can plan and plan and everything can go to shit anyways.

She’s standing on the flat part of one of Suna’s domed roofs with the dark moon above her. Gaara sits with his back towards her, face towards the open starry sky. Sakura knows that he knows she’s there, he’d be a shit ninja not to. 

Her heart beats staccato in her throat, each pulse a sharp knife in her ribs. As much as she wants to attribute it to her mad dash through the city to escape the confines of her room, she knows that it’s due to standing and trying to confront the beginning of her end; the terrifying beast that showed her how weak she is, showed her how she was her parents’ executioner. Sakura wants to run, flee from the danger that this man, boy? had instilled in her those months ago, but Inner is pushing her forward. How is she supposed to get stronger if she can’t even confront what she’s scared of? A paper ninja through and through. In this spur of the moment confrontation, she’s borrowing Inner’s strength and courage. She can’t be a coward, not here, not when she has millions of other things to worry about, like not dying tomorrow in whatever task is first.

Before she stands under the starry sky with a terror in front of her, she’s in her room cursing her inability to sleep. The sheets are too rough, the air too stifling. There are too many thoughts in her head, too many questions, scenarios. A deep dark mass in her stomach that chills and bubbles and sucks the life force out of her, stops her from closing her eyes. All the what-ifs, what-coulds, what-wills. What will happen tomorrow, what if she fails. What would Tsunade say, Kakashi. What will she do if she fails again?

The conclusion she reaches to has her burning in shame. It’s the cowards way, the way that the gods will not accept, but she’s desperate, oh so desperate for this one thing in her life to go well. She’s sure if she fails this second time, on the way home there’ll be a tragic accident in the woods that leaves Team 10 a stand in member short. That’s dark, and she understands it’s not healthy and everything that Dr. Toru has been trying to have her steer clear of, but at this point she doesn’t know if everything she’s been doing is enough. The room is closing in and her stomach keeps plunging and eventually she can’t stand sitting in this quiet room thinking of her future (further? Almost ending?). She sits up, slips out the window and tries to run from her problems, a true Kakashi’s student..

That’s how she finds herself here, Inner a whisper in her ear, her death on her mind and the air freezing over her arms. 

When Sakura almost involuntarily clears the fear from her throat--Inner you will kill us, I wON’t Outer, grow a pair--Gaara turns and stares at her. Sakura stills the chakra running through her to truly freeze herself in place.

“I’m sorry,” The words blurt out of her before she has a chance to truly think them over. She has no plan, she’s here on a whim, one last act of strained bravery. She knows she wants to apologize, be brave enough to put aside the terror to right her perceived wrong and control at least this one interaction.

Gaara stares for a few long, heart stopping seconds before looking back up towards the dark moon. Only then does she force her frozen limbs, to move to sit parallel to him. Not next to, she is way too far away to classify herself as sitting next to him. Sakura takes his lack of a response as acceptance to her presence, even though she knows it’s more likely that he doesn’t care who is here with him, or who isn’t.

Bravery Sakura, come on, bravery. She has no plan, what the fuck is she doing.

“What for?” He asks, he’s still looking up at the moon, or where the moon would be if a light was there to look at. His sand is dead beside him, but she can sense, under the dark of the moonless sky and the silence of the city below, how difficult it is for him to keep everything so tightly under wraps. How difficult it is for her to keep herself under wraps. This is vulnerability in a frozen desert.

“For being scared, for flinching,” 

The boy next to her is silent, but the way the sand rustles just a bit jolts her heart until she furiously forces chakra down her veins to mask the jump.

“Are you scared now?” 

He can’t hurt her here, and if he does, there’ll be consequences far reaching. “I shouldn’t be,” The strength that Inner has leant her is disappearing quick, the itch is returning and the fear is slowly compounding as the seconds tick.

“But you are,”

Sakura can’t respond. Her death is on her mind, her failures closing quick. There’s a dangerous line in her mode of coping, Dr. Toru had said. She remembers, in the professionally decorated room, where her shinobi gear sticks out like a daisy in a rose bush. She fails for the purpose of propeling herself, but if ever that failure’s too much she’ll crash and burn and never recover.

There’s more silence as a breeze blows through the town and the lanterns shake. (Face him coward.)

That’s all she can take, her leg twitches and she shoots up. She bows, quick and robotic, and flees back to the inn.

When she gets there, adrenaline pulsing through her veins and Inner silent in her mind, her breathing more labored than it should be, she curses herself for not saying goodbye.

* * *

The next several hours are spent in fitful, restless sleep. She wakes the next morning knowing she might die today or fail, and with the rest of groggy Team 10 goes towards the Kazekage building. Despite working on 2 hours of sleep, Sakura is awake and her chakra is brimming. The room they’re collected in is filled with ninja, Ame, Kiri, Suna, and now Konoha, not unlike her first Konoha exams, only instead of the greenery in the window, there’s pale sand. Unlike in the previous exams, where they were immediately noticed and targeted from Naruto’s boisterousness, Team 10 and Sakura aren’t spared a glance as they slide through the doors and head to the sidelines. Sakura is regulating her breathing, Chouji is snacking, and Ino is looking into a compact and fixing her eyeliner. Sakura elbows the blonde sharply.

“Aren’t you worried?!” She angrily whispers as the other shuts her compact with a sharp click and runs a hand through her bangs and glares. 

“No, Forehead, unlike some, I’m not. We trained, we’re fine.” 

Sakura only curves her mouth into a grimace and bites the inside of her cheek. “Alright,”

It’s a wholly unassured response.

They wait for around half an hour until the clock strikes 5 am on the dot, at which point the giant metallic doors shut with a large bang. With a poof of excess chakra smoke, 4 figures appear at the small raised stage at the front of the room. She recognizes the three Sand siblings, and makes no eye contact with any of them as the figure in front starts speaking. From what she knows and from Asuma’s debriefing, the figure speaking is the current stand in for Kazekage until one of the Sand Siblings gets elected as Kage. Suna works through elections, but also through genealogy. When the previous Kazekage died, neither of the children were deemed strong (or stable enough in the case of Gaara) enough to assume the post. And until an election was held, a stand in completes the day to day operations. 

“Welcome to the first task of the joint Chuunin exams. It’s a maze, get back up in 72 hours and you pass to the next phase. No further comments.”

It’s short, concise, and as soon as he utters that last word the floor opens up beneath all of them and they’re falling through a dark metal chute.

* * *

Sakura feels a scream tear from her throat before she clamps her mouth shut and tries to grab onto something on the wall to stop her fall. Her fingernails scrape quickly on the smooth metal, knocking painfully against the bolts on the sides of the chute. She hears above her the clang of doors closing off layer by layer, forcing them down deeper and deeper into the earth. She manages to get her wits about her enough to count to 34 before she hears Ino’s scream cut off and then two thumps as Chouji finally hits the ground, and then Ino onto him. Sakura’s next and only has a few brief, precious seconds before she falls into the pile to fortify her bones from breaking. Sakura lands on Ino in a way that makes all the breath in her lungs dissipate. She thinks she hears Ino yelp and Chouji to groan but her head is spinning from the fall down. 

When her head clears and the the air returns to her lungs, she rolls off of the pile to assess if she’d fucked herself over anywhere. A brief scan leaves her with some bruising, but otherwise no other injuries. She makes way over to her teammates. Ino is obviously holding onto her ankles in pain, and cursing at every god. 

“Let me, Ino,” Sakura says and pushes the girls hands from her ankles. As soon as she places her hands to Ino’s ankles the girl hisses again.

“Your hands are Fucking Freezing!” 

“It’s better than them being useless, hold still, you’ve fractured them.” It’s a routine procedure she’s done on more than one occasion. So far she’s calm.

When she’s done, she moves on to Chouji, but the boy had managed to expand himself to cushion his fall enough to only leave bruises.

It’s a sigh of relief and a brief burst of pride that she’s managed to heal her team in the middle of a mission with most of her chakra intact. It is a mission now, no other name for the task, and at that and the dark doorway brings the first twinges of anxiety.

They’re in a small dark room with a single exit looming in front of them. She can see in the distance some lamps illuminating a corridor further away. Her teammates stand and begin looking around.

“They must’ve had separate chutes that went down in different parts. A maze, I heard that right, right?” Ino says as she tests her newly healed ankles. 

“I think so, the others have probably been sent to different parts of the building.” A through rises to Sakura’s head, “Do you think we’re all on the same level?”

They all fall silent as they try to listen to any rustle or fumble of steps. When the silence descends it’s almost suffocating.

“Let’s hope the levels are big and we’re alone on ours.” 

“Hoping that their big is counterproductive towards us, Chouji. Goddamnit Shino’s bugs would be really handy right about now.”

“They would, but we don’t have them, and won’t.” 

“Gods, Sakura chill, we’ll be fine!” Ino says as she watches the pink haired girl fidget while the situation settles in.

“Ino you just fractured both your ankles falling down a chute in the first minute of the Chuunin Exams, how well do you think this is going?!” Sakura exclaims as she starts checking her bags. Medicinal, Weaponry, Food, Miscellaneous, everything is there. Her Katana is her on her back and everything seems to be accounted for. Deep breaths.

“And you healed me, and we’re fine! Take a goddamn chill pill! Chouji don’t you have some those?” 

“I don’t fucking need anti-anxiety meds.” 

Chouji, wisely, chooses to interrupt before Ino can get out what she wanted to say with a nasty look on her face. “Hey, guys, lets focus on the exam!”

“I  _ am _ focusing on the exam!” Sakura barks out, pulling on the skin of her hands as the darkness starts to really creep up on her. Gods it’s dark, they have no way of accurately making their way through this maze, and the fall was way too long for the finish line of the exam to be only a few floors up.

“How many do you think was it?” Chouji asks, and both of the girls shrug. 

“We’ll just have to keep climbing up then.” Ino says, straightening out her mesh and lightly knocking into Sakura’s shoulder as she walks around the room. It’s as much of an apology as she’s gonna get from the girl, so when Ino can see, she bobs her head as an apology in return. Sakura’s setting not only herself, but Ino on edge, no matter how much the girl is trying to keep her cool.

“72 hours, what do you guys have in terms of supplies?” Sakura asks, breaking out her own for show. “I have about a liter of water, enough ration bars for 2 days and 5 soldier pills.”

“I have a liter of water too, 2 ration bars and no soldier pills.” Says Ino, and Sakura  tries not to let the damp basement, chuunin-level competitors, no rules other than getting to the top in 72 hours, in a dark maze, get to her.

“I have a liter of water, ration bars for a week, or if just me around a day, several bags of chips, the Akimichi pills, and several packets of soldier pills.”

“That gives us all a liter of water amongst us per 24 hours, rations shouldn’t be a problem, and soldier pills for emergencies. A liter of water for all three of us isn’t good, we have to get out in at least 24 hours, or our ability to fight will be diminished significantly if we’re conserving water.”

“We remain silent, alert, and try to get out of here as quickly as possible. Do not engage if it can be avoided.” 

Chouji and Ino nod in agreement, and the task begins.

The first thing they do is check the chute they fell from. However it’s soon discovered that no matter where they look it’s as if the chute has vanished. It leaves the only doorway into the halls.

When they venture out they stay silent. There’s the imminent threat of traps so they keep their eyes straining against the dark and their chakra reaching as far out as they can. It’s a close call when Ino knocks a loose stone and the ground opens up beneath them, but when they manage to get across without getting impaled by the spikes embedded below, there’s an added unspoken agreement to disturb nothing. Hour 1-4 of walking passes quietly, with only that one trap and the ascension of two levels to break the monotone. They meet dead ends often, but the general trick of following one wall is enough stability for them to focus on conserving their energy and chakra usage to last them through. 

Hour 5-10 is marked with more quiet, and the ascension of 5 more levels. It’s a feat in itself. They meet no one, nothing, and as each level progresses in silence, there’s a jitter in everyone. As soon as they reach hour 11, something happens.

The corridor breaks open into a room. The facade is the same, the same torches, the same cold stone floor, however the room is wide and at the end of it, dear gods, is a fucking elevator. Their immediate reaction is to rush towards it, slam the button and get on it to ride to fucking glory, however as soon as they hear the murmur of voices, Chouji grabs their shoulders and slams them back into the corridor. They’re pressed solidly into the walls, each muting their chakra until they’re blank empty spots in a corridor devoid of life. 

The murmur quickly turns into a barrage of loud voices, singing, telling jokes, general mirth as a team walks into the room.

“Fuck Yes! There’s an elevator! I told you guys those fucking Sand rats wouldn’t make us walk up so many fucking stairs!” 

It’s a team from Iwa. Their red hitai-ate’s visible in the glint from the torches, and the shine from the light behind the elevator doors. The boy who speaks is broad shouldered, with cropped brown hair and a sword on his back that Sakura isn’t sure she could pick up. He’s followed by a laughing, slender, darkly purple haired girl, who fiddles with several coils of ninja wire. Their third teammate is fair, with glasses, who cuts off his singing as soon as the brown haired boy spots the elevator. 

“What are we waiting for! Let’s go up!” The girl says, and begins dragging her teammates up towards the elevator doors. They haven’t noticed Team 10 and Sakura pressed breathlessly against the corridor to their right, hoping their heartbeats aren’t loud enough to hear. Their goal is to make it through this first task without engaging, without being engaged, and getting through as quickly as possible to save their energy for the tasks to come.

The Iwa team gets to the elevator doors, and they look at each other with smirks before the girl goes ahead and presses the button to call the elevator to their floor.

She’s impaled with a spike a moment later, with her teammates’ heads rolling at her ankles.

Sakura stifles a scream as the spike recedes, and the girl falls to her knees and onto her face, dead before she could blink. The flying projectiles that decapitated the boys fly back into the opposite wall, disappearing, leaving their severed heads rolling on the cold stones. 

Before Sakura has a chance to vomit, Ino does, breaking her chakra silence and stillness in favor of bending over and vomiting the few precious mouthfuls of water they had, and the ration bar she ate on hour 6. Sakura is close to following, but can’t take her eyes off the bodies on the floor. It’s not her first sight of death, and it certainly not her last, but that could’ve been them. 

The floor opens up and the bodies are sucked into what seems to be another chute. She can hear the bodies knocking against each other as they descend down, down, down. There’s no way for them to go but up, and that means pressing the elevator button.

“What the FUCk was that!!” Ino says, staring at the now empty, clean stone in front of the elevator. 

“A trap, that we could’ve fallen into.”

Ino bites her tongue and bounces on the balls of her feet in anger. “Gods I hate Suna, I fucking HATE Suna.”

“It was rather barbaric wasn’t it,” Sakura says with a grim sort of laugh. She doesn’t know what she’s feeling, having just watched three people killed not 3 meters from her.

“We have to throw something at the button,” Chouji says, he’s pale, and a little green, but Sakura restrains her urge to meddle. She needs her chakra; she can’t cure their nausea. 

“What should we throw?” She asks, and they start rummaging in their pockets, trying to stay as silent as they can. There are corridors both to their right and left, and who knows who could emerge while they’re talking.

They eventually decide on Ino’s compact, as much as she protests. Ino throws it, and it hits the button squarely, with a good smack.

While the other team had pressed the button, Team 10 was too caught up in watching their bodies slide down the chute to take advantage and slip into the elevator before the doors closed. Now, as soon as doors open, the spikes and projectiles recede, they’re in the elevator pressing the doors shut as fast as they possibly can.

When the doors shut, and Ino presses the button for the first floor, they all sink down onto the floor in relief. The elevator marks the floor they were on as number 30. Which meant that by the time they reach floor 1 as marked on the elevator, they would have climbed 37 stories.

“I don’t think that’s the final floor,” says Sakura, mentally doing the math. “We fell for at least 40 floors, and that was since I started counting,” 

“How many floors do you think we still need to get through?” Chouji asks, opening a bag of chips.

“I think at least 20 more.”

“It’s almost hour 12, should we find a place to sleep once we get off?” Ino asks. Sakura is about to answer but Chouji beats her to it.

“I don’t want to sleep here, let’s get out as soon as possible, we all have more than half of our chakra left after 11 hours.”

“I agree, I wouldn’t be able to sleep here if we stopped, I have an inkling that as time goes on the traps are only more sensitive,”

“Alrighty then, let's hope for another elevator.” Ino pulls out tha ration bars, “Anyone up for dinner?”

They eat and drink as the elevator climbs slowly, slowly, up towards the 1st floor. It’s sheer luck it doesn’t open and reveal another team.

By the time they reach floor 4, something is off. The air is getting thin, and Sakura’s eyes have started to water. She can see Ino’s head sort of lolling on the wall behind her, and Chouji slumping heavily against the rails. It’s a few slow moments until Sakura realizes they’re being poisoned.

“Hold your breath!” Sakura gets out as her hands try to get to her medicinal pouch.

“What?” Ino asks, but as soon as she takes a deep breath in her eyes close.

“Don’t breathe!” Sakura yells as her fingers fumble with the clasps. She finally gets to her general antidote, doesn’t know if it’ll work, but preps her needle all the same. She injects Ino first, after a dizzying, almost painful crawl against the metal floor of the elevator. Her heartbeat is loud in her ears and there’s a muted feeling of absolute panic. 

The floor number ticks to three as she gets to Chouji, and up to 2 as she injects herself, fingers numb and eyes completely unfocused. Ino is still lolling, but she’s breathing, holding her collar to her nose to attempt to filter the air. Chouji is doing the same, due to his large body mass, the poison hasn’t been as bad as it had on thin Ino, unwilling to put on muscle. Sakura is worse than Chouji, but better than Ino, able to open her eyes, but still unable to fully comprehend what they should do. Applying an antidote was all she was able to think of once the effets had started, but she neither knows what poison it is, or what will happen to them if they get out. The floor ticks to one, and it’s Chouji who grabs them and drags them out of the elevator. The cool air, and cool stone beneath their faces is all too sweet. The antidote, thankfully working. 

Sakura’s throat had started to close, but upon their exit, she’s able to breathe again. As soon as her head starts to clear, the panic rises full and crests before she even begins to try and calm herself down. She should’ve been quicker gods fucking damn it. What’s calming what’s calming, tea, tea with Mikoto, libraries, studying, the pack, her apartment, 4 am hospital shifts, in and out, in and out. Deep breaths, deep breaths.

Eventually she’s calm enough to check on the others, who seem to be working their way through their own bit of panic, stabling their breathing and getting their fingers to move again. Hour 12 passes in a panicked state.

Hour 13 has them slowly working their way towards the right most corridor, and beginning to search for the next staircase up.

Sakura was right, this wasn’t the last floor, but compared to the air from the floor they left, it’s much warmer here. They’re close, so close. 

Their vision is still blurry, and Sakura is making them drink as much was as they can afford to to get the poison out of their system. She doesn’t know how to filter her blood yet, and has to wait for her kidneys to do it themselves, unassisted by chakra. 

Hour 22, they break out into the surface. 

It’s a goddamn miracle, Sakura has to say, a goddamn miracle. They’re out of water, completely, since she’d made everyone chug and piss, and they’re relatively uninjured, save for the side effects of the poison from the elevator. 

They enter the room, mark down their names and affiliation, are checked over by the medical staff on hand, given the proper antidote, and sent on their way. They’re told they’re one of the lucky ones to have found an elevator, and lucky that they didn’t encounter anyone or anything. They’re one of the only ones who’ve gotten out with only poisoning. A goddamn miracle based entirely on luck and zero skill.

When they get out of that room, the sunlight has all of them stopping and just, enjoying. After 22 hours of darkness, and terror, and adrenaline, the sun is magnificent. Asuma finds them there, standing near the doors of the Kazekage building, staring up a the sky. 

They’re dazed, the antidote still working through the after effects and their minds still exiting mission mode, but when Asuma brings them back to their rooms, it takes them only seconds to fall asleep.

* * *

The moon is a third of the way full over them as she approaches the red haired boy sitting on the roof. It’s been a day since the end of the first task. Team 10 and Sakura were one of the 8 teams out of 20 to get out of the maze in the time allotted. She isn’t sure the death count but she knows it’s large.

“I’m sorry.” Her hands are steadier tonight. There’s a small victory under her belt, and it works in her favor. She endured what was an apparently deadly maze, and exited in under 24 hours with poisoning. There were teams that died, like the Iwa team. She didn’t, she’s alive. 

“You apologized last time.”

Sakura swallows, and sits down next to him.

Her gaze is set intently towards the moon as she says, “I didn’t say goodbye.” It’s a silly thing to apologize for, from an outside perspective, but it’s something she has to say. She left too abruptly last time, it’s not enough to stammer like a fool and call it a victory. She left like a coward, so she’s here to try again, no matter how much she wants to hide back in her room and study the poison scrolls Chiyo had given her.

In a jerk that makes her muscles tense, Gaara turns and looks at her. She doesn’t meet his eyes, and stays ramrod straight.

“I don’t like leaving or being left without saying goodbye.” No one ever tells her where they’re going, why, when they’ll be back. Naruto left and said goodbye in a letter. Sasuke never bothered. Kakashi leaves again and again and she doesn’t know if he’ll ever come back to her alive. She didn’t get a chance to tell her parents goodbye or they to her. Goodbyes mean closure, something she hasn’t had completely yet.

She swallows and brings her gaze down to streets below. There’s more silence, and she feels like a fool. A stronger fool than 4 days previous; she doesn’t have her flight response quivering as much under her fingertips. 

“There’s a sandstorm in a few days.” He says, and reflexively, unthinkingly, she moves her head to look at him. The moment she meets his eyes she remembers clutching to a kunai with sweaty palms as a beast in front of her raged. She looks away and takes a deep breath. Two steps forward one step back.

“Thank you,--” she forces out as she stands, “--goodbye.”

She doesn’t see him nod in return.

* * *

She spends the rest of the nights leading up to the second task not sleeping. The anxiety compounds as the day of the second task approaches, and she knows that unless she’s sleep deprived she will not be able to fall asleep the night before the task. She spends her time pouring over Chiyo’s scrolls, and working on her own theories. She sharpens her blades, preps her antidotes. Day two of no sleep has Ino forcing a stick of concealer on her, which Sakura promptly rubs off. News had come after the completion of the first task, that the second was to traverse the desert of Suna, avoiding obstacles and various creatures. Where the first task was endurance, strategy, and partially luck, this one is completely survival. The 8 teams left are to report to one of the gates where they will be transported to their section of the desert. 

They start gathering supplies a day early. They use a sealing scroll entirely for water, both for hydration and another case of poisoning that Sakura can’t fully handle. Their tags and seals are intact, clothing modified for the desert, and supplies packed and compact. There’s a thought niggling in the back of her mind, something that Gaara had said a few days previous when she saw him. A sandstorm in the next few days, right on the days of the second task. Speaking of which, Temari had also mentioned a sandstorm on their tour hadn’t she.

It doesn’t take more than that for Sakura to find the biggest tarp she could, and 3 pairs of goggles. She doesn’t know how bad the storm will be, but it serves to be even a little bit prepared. 

* * *

They’re transported with a sealing scroll out towards the desert. The proctor for their section of their desert points them in the direction of the entrance gate to Suna, and then reverses the transportation seal. There’s no time limit for this challenge, but Team 10 and Sakura decide to continue their plan from the first task. Keep low, keep quiet, conserve energy, and get to the finish line as quickly as possible.

The sand is writhing in dunes and the wind is slithering at a snail’s pace. There’s no cover; everything is relatively flat and clear that she can see far off in the distance the sharp craggle of Suna’s raised cliff/wall/defense thing.

Traveling through the desert on their way there was stressful enough with the lack of cover, but now, with no guide, no jounin-sensei, absolutely no cover and the knowledge that this is a test that marks their promotion has the entire team a bit worried.

It seems like the distance isn’t receding, they just keep running and running towards the scraggle they were pointed at. Sakura worries that it’s a genjutsu every couple of minutes, and breaks any fingers of stray chakra so as to not repeat the performance in her second exams. She comes up with nothing each time, and doesn’t know if it reassures her or not. When the sun starts to burn into the top of their heads, Ino pulls out their headscarves and soaks them with water. They take a break then in their trek then to hydrate. 

It’s a mistake.

They spill some water distributing and wetting garments from the heat, and as soon as those drops of water soak into the sand, there’s a rumble deep from below. Chouji feels it first, Ino too preoccupied styling her headscarf and Sakura too focused on opening the storage seals. 

The  _ thing _ , that emerges from the sand resembles a large beetle. Eyes large and reflective, feral really, in its attempt towards any source of water. Giant and buzzing, and reiterating why exactly Sakura dislikes bugs. 

Their team formation isn’t complex, but it’s sturdy. Chouji uses an Akimichi jutsu to enlarge himself while Ino throws kunai and shuriken in a wild barrage. Sakura takes the moment when the giant beetle reels back as some of the shuriken dig themselves into its eyes. Sakura gathers chakra into her fists and manages to break two legs, getting spilled with disgusting purple fluid in the process. The beetle is incapacitated, partially blind and disfigured when Chouji slams full power into the beetles abdomen. It’s not as effective as it would have been in the trees of Konoha or any enclosed space. Instead of skidding and grinding against the outer layers of the beetle, it only serves to knock the beetle further away from them. It’s no brilliant idea for one of them to yell “RUN,” and for Team 10 and Sakura to sprint as fast as they can away from the struggling beetle behind them. 

It’s a good time for them to do so since as soon as the liquid streaming from the beetle seeps into the sand it’s as if a giant smoke signal had gone out and the earth begins to rumble even more. Sakura only has a chance to see something rise up and snap another leg and half an abdomen off the beetle and suck it down into the sand.

She’s chanting fuck repeatedly under her breath and monitors Ino’s and Chouji’s chakra levels slightly behind her. They’re alright, still have more than half, and seem to be keeping up with her. There have to be more creatures under the sand, any disturbance or unnatural occurrence in this desolate space is a trigger. When Suna had a chance to wake their bugs and bring them to the surface, Sakura has no idea, but knows that every time she comes back to this village, she’ll never forget the prospect of giant malicious bugs lying deep in the earth. 

It’s as if things can’t get any worse, and Ino drops her bracelet. It’s a silver thing that she bought at a market once, at an exotic stall that came from Suna. With this in mind Sakura would have left the bracelet without a second thought, bought a new one in the city they were staying, but Ino stopped. She fucking stopped after being attacked by a giant fucking beetle, not a hundred meters from that same bug being eaten apart by another more sinister thing. She fucking stopped and Sakura has to curse because she had suspicions that Ino wasn’t taking this as seriously, but now she had confirmations that she fucking wasn’t. 

“Ino, let’s  _ GO! _ ”

“I just dropped it, I see it! Keep running!” 

Sakura isn’t taking anything; she’s fucking pissed. She grabs Ino’s arm away from where she’s rummaging in the sand for a glint of her bracelet, and pulls. Ino follows like a rag, but then pulls back with a screech. That screech of frustration turns into a yell of pain as the  _ thing _ that ate the giant bug clamps onto Ino’s leg. 

She’s being pulled into the sand and her nails dig now painfully into Sakura’s arm. Chouji is there, hacking at the appendage, while Sakura  _ yanks _ , increased chakra strength and all until Ino falls out of the grasp of the thing. 

No one knows if the thing recedes because of the pain, or if because at that moment the sandstorm descends. The sand is blinding. Immediately painful on every exposed surface. It cannot be a normal sandstorm. Ino grunts out a sound of pain as the sand hits, and if Sakura wasn’t struggling with categorizing her own pain, she would have immediately fixed Ino. 

It’s a miracle that the tarp, a fucking godsend, comes out when it does courtesy of Chouji, who’s expanded again and moved to shield them from the immediate onslaught. The utter sweetheart.

The tarp is stretched over them, and the relief is immediate as they clamp it down as best they can around them. 

Ino is her immediate priority, and chakra is immediately flowing into her palms as Sakura sets the girl down on the sand and tears away the mangled clothing covering her left leg. It’s a fucking  _ sight _ , Sakura later thinks when she reflects in her mission report. For now, her mind is a barrage of panic and knowledge trying to come together and  _ help. _

Her hands clamp onto Ino’s thigh, the immediate danger as far as Sakura can see visually, and doesn’t heed the blood that spills over her fingers or seeps into her nails. The scan of the immediate area has Ino with a shattered femur and a fractured patella. The Quadriceps muscle is badly torn from the rough incisions and the according tendon is similarly slashed. With a deep, sort of but not really calming breath she begins pushing her chakra into her best friend’s leg. Ino is shuddering beneath her, her hand stuffed into her mouth to not make a sound., and the pink haired almost medic is grateful that she doesn’t have to deal with the sounds of pain she can’t attend to. As much as she wants to numb Ino’s pain, she can’t; she’s not sure how yet, but she has to knit the bone back together, immediately, before she can administer any oral painkiller. With a significant amount of panic, Sakura can feel her chakra depleting, quickly approaching the mark where Tsunade tells her to let go. 

The whole healing mechanism is that the natural chakra in the cells is used to speed healing, Sakura’s chakra only mixes and guides the natural chakra to stimulate the growth of cells. The more chakra she uses to guide a patient’s natural chakra, which has a habit to disperse, the more the composition of their natural chakra changes. The more it changes the greater the chance that the difference will be too great for them to know instinctively to control.

But there’s no one around, and Ino is still in pain and might still die from blood loss. 

Chouji stands, sits? guard underneath their tarp, as Sakura tries to desperately patch Ino up enough to drag her across the sands to the finish line.  

It would be a cruel, cruel lesson to learn out in the middle of Suna’s desert, that she can’t save everyone. A vicious lesson that she experiences her best friend’s death as her first under her hands. However the shards in Ino’s leg begin to cooperate, and fit themselves into their previous state. The torn arteries and veins begin to mend, and Sakura doesn’t learn it, and vows, stubbornly, to never learn the feeling of having a comrade die in her arms. 

She still has chakra left that doesn’t put Ino in danger of being crippled, but she still stops, as hard as it is, and instead pulls out bandages that will stop the bleeding and painkillers until they get to more medics that can heal her fully.

Ino is still trembling, but manages to sit up to try help Sakura wrap the bandages around her thigh.

“Not bad, Forehead--,” She starts to say, but Sakura knocks her hands away. Ino’s face is tear streaked, and her fist has indents where her teeth were bearing her pain.

“Rest for a bit, we’ll head out soon,” Sakura tries to make sure that nothing in her voice gives away how terrified she was in that moment. She doesn’t know if she succeeds.

* * *

 

“I’m sorry,”

The moon is halfway full today; a day after the end of the second task. Ino had been released from Suna’s hospital with a clean bill of health. After Sakura had bandaged and drugged her friend on painkillers, they all geared up on goggles and headscarves, covered every exposed area of skin, and made their way in what they hoped was a straight line towards Suna. When the storm had lifted, they were a mile off, and when they entered they ended up being one of the 4 remaining teams.

“For what this time?” Gaara asks. 

“I keep running.”

He grunts in response.

“Naruto said---,” Sakura takes a deep breath. “Naruto said that you were orphaned. Just like him,” Just like me.

“I was.”

She thinks about leaving, the anxiousness she’s stomping out is slowly creeping back into her lungs. (Or is it sand?) Whatever it is, she shouldn’t be feeling it. She just passed 2/3rds of the Chuunin exam. She was one of finalists, she’s never gotten this far before, she  _ is _ stronger.

“The Poison Mistress? Chiyo-baasama?” 

“I scare away the people who bother her. Grandmother doesn’t mind I’m there.”

“Oh.”

More silence as the wind blows, she’s calmer now. Who knew success gives confidence, shreds of it, but still confidence for interactions like this.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m not sleeping,”

“Why?”

“I’m making sure I can sleep before the next task.”

“What do you do?”

(He’s not going to use this against you, he’s curious, he’s alone, he’s helped you, answer him)

“I study.” She blurts. “Medicine. The stuff I borrowed from Chiyo-baasama.”

“Naruto--,” (Breathe Outer! This should be instinctual! I shouldn’t be coaching your body on subconscious actions!!) “Naruto said that you don’t sleep as well.”

“I don’t. I lose control,” 

“What do you do?”

“Paperwork,”

It’s such a wholly unexpected response that Sakura has no follow up; she switches topics. She has one question left, something that’s been begging for attention since Naruto’s last rambling letter.

“Naruto said you wanted to be Kazekage,” It barely qualifies as a question.

“I do. I want to make this village safe.”

The conviction in his otherwise monotonous voice is what throws her for a loop. There was no hesitation, like Naruto, this is what he wants, and this is what he will do.

She can’t ask anymore questions, wants to, but doesn’t know where to start.

“You’ll be… good, I think.” She manages to get out. She believes her words, wouldn’t say them otherwise. “Thank you. For sharing.”

She sees in her peripheral that he nods. Sakura stands.

“Goodnight.”

* * *

 

In the final task, she stands as one of the 12 shinobi who passed the second stage of the exams. Chouji stands by her side, well rested, serious, ready, and Ino is on her other, her hair tied and bundled away from her face, her clothes no nonsense, and her weapons pouch stocked. There’s a change, since Ino exited the hospital, and Sakura is all too glad for it. She’s still Ino, but a more serious Ino. She has no doubt that her teammates will pass the exams. Sakura can feel it, taste it even.

The crowd spectates above, and Sakura does all she can to block them out. There are speeches, formalities to fulfill, and Sakura dutifully watches as the Sand Siblings say their piece, as short as it all may be, and announce the initial pairings. 

Sakura’s first fight is against an Ame girl. Brown haired and mousey, her chakra has a waterish quality to it. Her suspicion that water jutsu is this girl’s strongest suit is proved correct, when she’s shot with wave after literal wave of metal projectiles and their water counterparts. Her own jutsu use is sparse, seals quick as she uses earth to suck the girl down whenever possible, and raise her shields. The girl intends to keep her far away, so Sakura gets close, uses her katana against her short blades and when it gets knocked away, uses her bare fists to move and trap the girl into webs of wiring. Sweating, with adrenaline pulsing through her system and Inner  _ howling _ with glee in her head, she passes to the second, and final round. 

After months of failure after failure, loss after loss, she wins a spar. A spar, a fight against an actual other ninja. Kakashi never let her fully win. Lee is always quicker and stronger. Anko is a whole other story that doesn’t have the words win and Sakura in the same sentence, ever, in it. In the moment where Kakashi’s training takes effect, silencing her general panic, forcing ideas and plans, tactics, traps, into her head, she’s euphoric. It’s paying off, it’s all paying off and Sakura  _ shines. _ Shines because this is her first true victory; shines because she allows herself now.

She’s grinning, true, and bright, with her knuckles aching as she leaves the stadium, oblivious to cheers or boos, or other considerations. She’s euphoric.

She’s allowed to rest, and allowed to heal her own hands. The medics are working on the participants of other matches, and are all too glad to be rid of her as she requests to heal herself. There’s not as many medics here, or hospital staff at all as she looks around. Something to note, something to report. She watches Ino and Chouji’s first matches, each against a foreign ninja. Ino wins with a few shuriken and her clan jutsu, which had grown more powerful with practice. Chouji is an unstoppable force of nature, and literally flattens his opponent into submission. She greets her teammates with a giant hug; she’s on the moon.

Their second matches come first before her own. They’re harder this time, and both her teammates end up wisely conceding after putting up a hell of a fight. She’s proud, so proud of them.

Her second match is a boy from Suna. Sandy haired, and earth jutsu based, their spar is taijutsu in nature. The confidence running through her speeds her movement, adds extra spice into her attacks. Her mind is flying a mile a minute as a grin plays on her lips. She’d been reading about nerves the night before, electrical impulses and defibrillators. Things she’d known about but picked up for review. In this state she doesn’t think it through. It’s a hypothesis she’d wanted to try out for a while, but never had a chance, or a partner to do so.

What if she…?

The minute she sends that pulse of chakra, she can feel the boy’s heart stop beating. 

The Suna nin’s eyes go wide and unfocused as his body contracts slightly and his arm releases the jutsu seal and grabs at his heart. As he falls his arm slides out of his hand and Sakura stands frozen as she registers that she’s just sent this boy into cardiac arrest, the euphoria vanishes as quickly and silently and heart wrenchingly as her teammates.

The moment she realizes that she’s about to kill this boy if she doesn’t do something, she falls to her knees and her hands are tearing the fabric of his chest. Her hands are on his heart and she’s furiously trying to manipulate her chakra into a defibrillator to restart his heart. Sakura yells for the medics, and brings her mouth down on his to perform CPR. She feels his heart beat feebly once beneath her hands and struggles not to freak out.

Before the paramedics reach her his heart picks up again and he chokes under Sakura. The boy surges up and Sakura falls back as he stares at her.

He’s staring at her and Sakura can see that small glint of fear. She doesn’t know if it’s because he was just near death, or because she’s in front of him. She doesn’t know which option she wants. His lips move but nothing comes up, and in between heaving breaths Sakura manages to let out a confused ‘what?’

The boy’s voice is louder this time, and it’s the same moment that the medics are in hearing range when he says, “I concede,”

“He concedes!” A medic calls to the proctor, and Sakura gets pushed away from the boy she almost just killed. There are rules about this, rules discussed in the formal speech at the beginning of the final task. No casualties, no killing, or automatic disqualification. Fight as if to harm or maim, never to kill. The death toll in this exam was to high for the remaining strongest examinees to be killed off. She broke that rule, she killed that boy for those few short nanoseconds. She’s disqualifies, she knows this, dear god it’s an acid realization that sits in the pit of her stomach. Sure she brought him back to life, but she killed him, almost wa? He could have died if she wasn’t quicker, if she didn’t know what she was doing. Oh how quickly the euphoria from her first round wore off. That confidence was the fucking end of her. One victory and she goes about and fucking  _ fails _ . Gods she can never win; they will never let her succeed, she doesn’t have the character, or capacity for it. 

* * *

“I’m sorry.” 

She’s been sitting on the roof since sundown.

Her voice is gruff and her limbs are stiff from sitting in the same fetal position hours upon end. She couldn’t really talk to Ino about this, or Chouji, or Asuma. Weakness. She can’t even almost kill a boy. What kind of ninja is she.

Sakura feels Gaara sit down next to her.

The moon is 3/4ths full.

“I didn’t think anything would come of it. In the moment it was just a...  what if? What if i send a pulse, the nerve was right there. What if I just stopped the flow for just a few seconds?” Sakura turns her head away from Gaara. “I didn’t want to kill him, not there, not at that moment, not when his shinobi career was just about begin.”

“Gods, as his begins mine will end. One false move and I’ve sentenced myself to an earlier grave. I would never be able to face my village after this failure if he’d died.” 

She pulls her nails against the skin of her arms. Digs deep because pain is something she can handle. If she’s bleeding she doesn’t notice.

There’s silence as Gaara turns towards her, and not towards the almost full moon they share.

“You didn’t kill him.” It’s the closest thing that Gaara can say that assuages her guilt.

“No, but if I waited any longer, I would have.”

* * *

She’s standing in the arena where she almost killed the boy, where euphoria and confidence morphed into desolation and waits her classification. She’s there with the 12 original shinobi left in the race. She, a boy from Iwa, and a girl from Ame hold the victories of the final round. No one got close to killing their opponents, always pulling away when a kunai hits too close to a main artery. She didn’t, oh dear god, the memory just sends her spiraling. She doesn’t look at the boy she almost killed. 

The stand in for Kazekage stands and unfurls a scroll, and clears his throat. He’s silent, and then begins to list off name, affiliation, pass or no pass. Chouji passes, and Sakura, even worried sick, manages a smile, and so does Ino. She’s third last in the line, hears him call her name, and affiliation, but before he can announce if she passed or not, if she has a future after this or not, Gaara pulls on his arm. 

Gaara stops him from saying what he was planning to, and pulls down forcefully so that the man, and then his siblings crowd around to discuss. There are whispers and Sakura feels herself actually die.

She makes eye contact with Gaara anyways, if she’s dead, eye contact doesn’t matter anymore does it? And gives him the strongest smile she can manage. It’s weak as shit, a milimeter away from a grimace, but she thinks Gaara gets it anyways when he nods and stands back in his spot.

“Sakura Haruno, Konoha, Pass.”

She’s sure she actually dies right then and there.

* * *

“I’m sorry.”

For the first time in their tentative friendship, acquaintanceship, whatever she’s supposed to call the four midnight chats they had, growing as people, she’s not the one apologizing. The role reversal catches her off guard.

“For what?”

She’s standing by the unofficial official exit to the village with her stuff packed on her back. She sees the rest of Team 10 and Temari walking towards them in her peripheral. When she looks Gaara back in the eyes he speaks.

“That time, in the Konoha Forest. During the Invasion.” 

Sakura doesn’t know what she’s feeling, anxiety, fear, calm, anticipation, adrenaline, but there’s a distinct feeling of relief. They both seem to need a hand in holding hands, so slowly, ever so slowly, she raises her hand up.

He seems to understand the gesture, and also slowly, ever so slowly, slides his palm against hers in a firm handshake.

“Thank you, Gaara.”

He nods, a short, firm bob that if Sakura blinked she would have missed.

“Thank you, Sakura.”

Team 10 is upon them, and they slip their hands out of their first step towards sanity, humanity.

Gaara straightens as Temari comes to stand beside him, and Ino purposely bumps into Sakura. Chouji and Asuma stand behind the girls, and the guide stands awkwardly off to the side, waiting for the signal to depart.

“The city of Suna thanks you for your participation in the Chuunin Exams, and thanks you for your peaceful visit.” Gaara says, every bit the Kazekage he is trying to become.

Ino snorts and nudges Sakura side.

“Suna welcomes you with open arms, and open borders.” Temari ends, and smiles, just a bit, in Ino’s direction. The blonde squints and scrunches her nose, but smiles nevertheless.

The moon is full and bright over the desert, and just as she’s turning around to head back home, a Chuunin, a success. She hears something she wasn’t expecting.

“Goodnight, Sakura.”

She smiles when she turns around. “Goodnight, Gaara.”

* * *

They’re an hour from Suna when Ino finally descends.

“I can’t believe you’re dating Gaara-san, Sakura. Oh. My. God. Who knew that was where you were heading out in the middle of the night!”

“Ino! NO! I’m not dating Gaara!. We’re just acquaintances! I talked to him like 4 times!”

“Oooooooh! Talked like 4 but probably made out like a million!”

“I should’ve left you in the desert to die! Ino-pig!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHATADAYA THINK FOLKS, COMMENTS MAKE MY LIFE


	9. and those sad souls to see who look with longing for their end to be/then he moved forward, and behind I trod

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *SLAMS HAND ON TABLE* I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!!!!!!!!!! so much, so so much,  
> my new years resolution was to post a chapter every month and by the end of the year (or earlier if im productive) finish alih, so far, so good with this chapter taking a month and a half, but eh, it ran away from me it really did  
> most of this chapter wasn't planned in the sLIGHTEst and just happened to occur bcz it just felt right that it happened  
> this is the final chapter to the first unofficial arc, with the next chapter starting with a small time skip and delving more into the development of sakuras social life and those hardships and stuff (plus the bigger involvement of itachi (who i'm sorry, got only 2 words and two hms in this chapter, i tried to had to make him speak, he just wouldnt the stubborn bastard)  
> anyways, it is late and my eyes hurt from editing this monster of a chapter,soo  
> ENJOY I LOVE YALL

     The gates of Konoha break on the horizon like the sun at dawn. Brilliant, comforting, and safe with the promise of peace after weeks away from home. Sakura is tired, physically, mentally, all she wants to do is get to the relative safety of her apartment and sort of collapse for a little while. Inner briefly, quietly mentions that there’s no one waiting for her at home, and that she’s a sham of a ninja, but Sakura shoves those thoughts deep, deep down to deal with later. Preferably when she’s showered, fed, and locked herself up with wards and traps in her apartment. Now, with the subtle ache in her limbs and the itchiness of her eyes from staring at the sun, she will relish in the bliss of returning home at dawn.

     At the gates stand Izumo and Kotetsu, who watch them walk at what seems to be an agonizing pace up to the gates. Her team beside her is anxious and impatient. Sakura can tell by the speed Chouji downs his chips and Ino’s exuberant chatting at her side.  They’re all excited to go home to their families, put their feet up, and disengage.

     “Yoo! Sakura-chan! You made it back! We got a hawk last night, congrats on making Chuunin!” says Kotetsu with a bright smile as they sign in.

     Something tickles the back of her mind, Inner wanting to say something. She knows what it is, doesn’t need Inner to notify her of the subtle wrongness of her own promotion. She hasn’t had a chance to think yet, or sort out her own true feelings about it, but it’s a congratulations all the same. She will take the congratulations with as much grace as she possibly can.

     “Thank you!” She says, face relaxing in a smile. “When do we need to report to Tsunade-shishou?”

     “Tomorrow at 2, she has council meetings all day today,” Izumo replies. “We’ll let you go home, but remember about our spar!”

     “Sure will!” Sakura says with a wave, and they’re finally in the village.

     Asuma leaves first with his mission scroll, with Ino and Chouji following home soon after. Sakura is left blissfully alone to enjoy the dawn and the early morning market at her leisure. She also gets to enjoy the nagging persistence of her thoughts, dredging up memories of Suna and the exams, but she’s beat tired, and it’s easier than usual to let the rising sun float her consciousness in a lazy, barely thoughtful river.

     The stalls have just opened at the market, and Sakura has first dibs on whatever she sets her mind to. The almost domestic act of shopping for her food manages to suck any remaining tension out of her shoulders that entering the village hadn’t.

     She buys food to last her the next few days, some vegetables, meat, and ramen and heads home up on the rooftops. At the top of her apartment building she stops and sits. When she goes into her apartment, she’ll have to think. She’ll have to analyze, and digest, and dredge up every memory from the past weeks no matter how vile or discomforting. She’s not ready for that yet, not yet, not with the sun just finishing its break on the horizon. She has a few more minutes of peace as the clouds fade from dawn pink to Konoha bright blue. She stares at the sky and allows herself to relax her chakra sense to the world beyond.

     During the Chuunin exams Sakura had kept her chakra sense coiled tightly around her to stop herself from unconsciously matching frequencies and screwing herself over. Now that she’s home, she has no qualms about releasing her range and letting her chakra mold itself into the surroundings as it wills.

     (She’s noticed that training as a medical ninja has only increased her sensitivity to chakra. From some trial and error, she knows she can’t be healed by sub-par medics or with hack-job healings, or else the interference between her signature and the healers will backfire on her as the beat frequency increases to disrupt her normal bodily functions, the beat of her heart, the pulse of electricity through her neurons, the breath in her lungs. Tsunade told her once after a healing session (where despite Tsunade’s immense skill and control, Sakura still felt dizzy and nauseous), that her chakra beats strangely. Not completely unheard of, she’d said, but rarely seen or observed. The beat of her chakra constantly changes; the tempo slides easily and seamlessly from one pattern to another. This is what makes it so easy for her to heal with minimal pain and discomfort since, her chakra can match another’s so easily. However the road doesn’t go both ways. While she can match her frequency (ies?) to others, they cannot do so as easily to her. As another tries to match her frequency to release the natural chakra in her cells, her frequency changes with the healer in a difficult position to catch up before the hold on the natural chakra is lost.

     It makes her as wonderful a healer as it does a shitty and complicated as fuck patient.)

     She never knew her range could grow only from holding her chakra in for so long. Now, her chakra flows and settles with a mind of its own into her surroundings until she can acutely feel the chakra signatures of the people below her. She can almost touch them, the sleeping signatures, if she tries. It makes her wonder if she might be able to manipulate them from her distance; if she even needs physical touch to manipulate chakra signatures for any other technique. It’s an undeveloped, passing thought she stores for later and purges from her current mind when the people below begin to actually stir. The sun has risen over the horizon, and the clouds are barely pink anymore. It’s time.

     Walking in after a long time away is nothing short of jarring. She’s used to walking into the cold dark space that was her apartment, but after a few weeks of being gone, the dust had settled and the air was colder that it should’ve been. Dark, impersonal, not a home.

     She’s warm from the relaxation and the few rays of the morning sun, but the heat is sapped quick when she enters walks through her doorway.

     With her mind carefully blank, she puts her food away, sets the kettle and showers. She drinks her tea and eats something resembling breakfast standing at her kitchen counter and staring at the sink. She fully locks her doors and windows, activates her wards, and shuts herself in the bedroom.

     There, with every need accounted for and any lingering paranoia assuaged, she digs up the memories and feelings from the past two weeks, and thinks.

* * *

     She doesn’t quite know where to start. Everything is so jumbled and messed up in her head that choosing one of the threads in the knot of her thoughts is a daunting decision. Chronological order, maybe? She’ll start at the beginning.

     Suna. Hot, sandy, with new food and a new way of life; it’s something that she doesn’t mind as much as she thought she would. It’s not Konoha, of course, with its tall trees, warm sun and tepid nights. But Suna itself was a marvelous place that she wouldn’t mind visiting again under less stressful circumstances. She might want to visit again once she finishes her poison studies with Shizune, maybe to convince Chiyo to teach her something? She was a mine of information, with scrolls upon scrolls on poison work of her own creation that Sakura wished she could get her hands on. Even though the woman was curt and blunt, Sakura can respect that about her. From what she’s observed she’s kind too, or at least empathetic to have Gaara help her out.

     Gaara. When she thinks of Gaara she can think of the moon, fear, and understanding. She was so scared of him when she first spoke with him. So terrified of the beast he contained, instead of him. Like the village did with Naruto, she misplaced her fears onto the person caught unwillingly in the middle instead of the problem itself. She knows of the tailed beasts, she’s read of them, and knows that Naruto never chose the burden. From what he’s written to her about Gaara, she knows he was caught in the middle as well. He was an attempt at a weapon sharpened by hate and loneliness. She didn’t believe Naruto when he first wrote to her about him, and how great he really was.

      Fear was, is, her main motivator. She sees it in her interactions with Gaara and in absolutely everything else she does. Sakura has been sticking to her comfort zone, or as close as she can to it as a ninja, but it has made her weak. Even though she’s better now, brief spurts of bravery aren’t sustainable. She can’t _flake_ like this; be brave one moment and then a complete and utter useless coward the next. It’s made her so weak that she couldn’t help her teammates in Wave, and wasn’t a good enough reason for Sasuke to stay, or Naruto. She only sat there in her apartment and wept, withered and marinated in her own misery.

     She’s not a talker, or an influencer; that’s Naruto. She’s seen it with her own eyes his charisma and endearing idiotness, the golden ideals that are nigh impossible to anyone else but him. If Naruto is trying to bring Sasuke back, then he will, and if he can’t talk him out of leaving as a traitor, then no one could, especially she.

     Sakura’s entire profession is based on protecting the weak below her, helping ease the fear of those dependent. How can she be a ninja if she can’t even face someone older, taller, stronger, without her knees as soft as jelly. She knows that an absence of fear would make her an idiot, but her fear was too much, something she needed to condition out of her system. It’s the irrational fear that she needs to eradicate from her system, the fear that clams her up when she speaks to stronger allies, and smarter coworkers.

     Talking with Gaara, was that first step. She fears him, just a smidgen for the beast chained within him, and the constant struggle for power over his own body. However she’s proud that she no longer fears him as she once did. She can touch his hand and not flinch, see him move his sand and not want to hide in the nearest hole. She can speak to him like a regular human because he is still human. Still a person with ambitions and dreams, and empathy.

     He helped her in the Chunin exams. The Chunin exams that were brutal, slow acting torture that had her watch the brutal death of three innocent genin and cause the near death of another. The first task was a waiting game that had set her so on edge she almost broke. A torture chamber of silence and hidden traps and stagnant air. The silence itself was deadly, and if she had been alone in there for the time allotted, wandering the underground maze and hacking up her lungs from poison, alone with the same scenery for hours and hours on end she knows that a last straw would be reached and she wouldn’t be the Sakura she had been before. Suna did know how to weed out the weak and badly acclimated. Too bad they missed one.

     The second task, the trip through the giant bug infested sand has only reiterated her distrust for open spaces. No deep dwelling creature of that size can live in the roots of the Konoha trees, she doesn’t need to worry about monsters crawling from the earth. Gaara helped her with this task as well, another stroke of empathy and a warning if the sandstorm to come. If she hadn’t been prepared enough to hide them beneath that tarp, healing Ino’s leg would have been 40 times harder with sand in her system. So hard she’s sure she would have had to stop and seen her best friend bleed out and die on foreign soil. He saved her life, if she thinks about it enough.

     The Chunin exams have taken years off her short life. She knows it.

     There’s that niggle of shame in the back of her head. Shame and pride, and disgust all welded together in ball that Sakura never wants to address but has to for her own sanity. The boy. She doesn’t even know his name, and yet she almost killed him in the only task of the exam where death was not permissible. She was too confident, to curious and made a mess of things by using her medical chakra in a despicably unorthodox way. She hasn’t officially taken the doctor’s oath yet since she’s still in training, but she knows the words by heart. It’s the main tenant. Do no harm.

      A dastardly act she committed when she used her medical chakra on that boy, plainly out of pure, unadulterated curiosity in the heat of battle. She’d healed him, started his heart again but she’s broken a rule she tries to uphold the best she can when it comes to using her medical chakra. She knows it’s futile in her career to do no harm, but at least with medicine, with an oath of hundred of doctors before her she wanted to think that maybe she could be honorable in some way.

     She’s a walking contradiction in her profession. She doesn’t know where to apply morals.

     Pity.

     Gaara took pity on her. The fact that he did have to interfere; that he had to convince the others that she was worthy, and strong, and even honorable enough to become a Chunin, is _shameful._

     Somehow it stings even more that she was pity promoted instead of just disqualified. She's so tired now. Tired and disappointed, she wants this to end.

     At this point, her thoughts are spiraling, down, down, down into a whirlpool of darkness, sinking lower and lower into her mistakes until she’s sure she might drown. The thoughts are vile and poisonous in her mind, expanding and encompassing every rational thought until her stomach is roiling, and her mouth tastes of acid. She didn’t get here by popular majority. She should not be a chuunin; she gave herself this last try and if she hadn’t been treated like a pouting child (which she was at that moment in time. She had spilled her guts to Gaara about what this meant to her and how much she wanted it and he had treated her just like she had wanted him to. Disgusting.), she would be a genin right now. The thought comes unbidden, and immediately shatters her heart. She could make it stop right now. She could make it stop, the fear, the pain, the deep, soul crunching, bone grinding exhaustion that she never seems to sleep away.

     She’s almost glad that Inner has become a stronger presence in her mind (never mind the psychological implications), pulling her down, and pulling her up in counterbalance whenever her moods exceeded an acceptable range, because while she feels she should, she doesn’t-- _I don’t_ want _to die. I don't want to die yet Outer. Inner, we might as well off ourselves before someone else has a chance. Knowing ourselves we will never die by our own terms, our life is short anyway. Let's by our own hands instead of someone else's. If we can't get stronger, if nothing has changed in the past few months after we've sweat and bled our souls out, what's the fucking_  point _in continuing._

     Outer wants to sleep, rest with no nightmares or pain, just wants oblivion now. Inner doesn't (not quite yet). But Outer has always throws the punches, and Inner has always tried to pull them back.

     (Since the moment she met Team 7, she was a rolling, falling walnut, gaining speed down a rocky slope. She’s reached the bottom, hit a sharp rock, and now the shell has broken to reveal an inside. Was her hardship, her descent worth it? Is the nut good? Or is it bitter and rotten? She’s broken apart, but there’s no one there to see.)

* * *

     The sun is a fourth of the way in the sky when she stumbles into Tsunade’s office with a speech in her head and noose hanging from her bathroom door.

     She’s alone and all but completely useless to the world, never strong enough for anything and always, always, weak, weak, weak.

     Sakura has two panic attacks on the way to the Hokage tower. The first one is in front of her door after she’d finished hanging the noose. At the sight of the noose pinned tightly by several kunai embedded deep into the frame, and the small step stool from her unused cupboard, she’d regained some sort of rational thought and then immediately lost it to the oppressive feeling of her life being squeezed out of her. Despite shutting her eyes as tightly as possible to ride out the waves of panic, the image of the noose was prominent in her mind’s eye, only furthering the collapse of her lungs.

     Each moment she spends scratching at her arms or at her chest is a direct reminder that in reality, she is completely and utterly alone in this world. Dependent on herself, no true home, a failure, and a disgrace to the shinobi way; her efforts are never enough. Failure, or the possibility of it is the only thing that’s been keeping her moving after her parents’ death. _After she killed them. She will succeed, or she will die._ She cannot handle being a disgrace, she cannot handle failure of this size.

     It’s just as Dr. Toru had said, if ever the failure is too great, the stress on her too much, she will crumple and cease to exist. She thinks that this is what’s happening now. She’d rather be dead, than be a disgrace. If she has failed so bad, she will take the coward’s way out.

* * *

     In the future, she might think that this whole episode was an irrational overreaction. But in this moment, when the loneliness compounds and there’s no one to pull you out of your broken, chemically imbalanced mind… Well, hindsight 20/20.

* * *

     She manages to stave off her second panic attack of the morning until she reaches the same alleyway between the Hospital and Dr. Toru’s office. She’s a crying, anxious mess and thankfully no one sees her in the hour it takes to put herself back together, straighten her clothes and wipe the tears off her cheeks. She re-memorizes her lines and with her emotions just bubbling to the surface, walks into the Hokage tower to Tsunade’s office.

     “Ah! Sakura!” Tsunade says as Sakura walks in, sloshing the sake in her cup. “Congratulations on your promotion! I knew you could do it! Didn’t expect anything less,”

     Sakura keeps silent, gathers her wits about her, tries to gather the courage to tell her without collapsing into heaving, sobbing mess.

     “Sakura you don’t look happy, are you alright?”

     Sometimes it’s the simplest question. Sometimes there’s no need for drawn out conversations or telepathy or hidden signals or messages and subtle nudges. Sometimes all it takes is someone to ask.

     The question, that question was the last fucking straw. The tears roll unbidden no matter how hard she’s tried to stop them. Her breath is gone as her knees give out for the nth time that morning. “No,”

     She’s so tired. “... -n’t wanna die…,”

     Any alcohol previously in Tsunade’s system is gone the minute Sakura sinks to her knees. In a fraction of a second she’s there to try to pull Sakura up or administer aid when she hears the broken girl.

     “What!?” It’s a phrase filled with anger, disbelief, and panic as her young apprentice, too young to be left alone, too young for this cruel world and too, too young for the horrors of her chosen profession, breaks apart in a way that medical chakra can’t fix.

     Sakura doesn’t hear her, only heaves as she feels warm, comforting hands flitting over her shoulders. “I don’t want to die.”

     “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t wann--,” The words dissolve, as her chest heaves and she has her third panic attack of the day. She can’t see anything, tears, or darkness, she only feels the panic rushing through her arteries and... Coldness, coldness that is too much of what she thinks death will be like, like the dead bodies in the morgue, cold, dark. Her nails are digging into her arms, but she doesn’t feel the the slip and slide of fingernails trying to find purchase on bloody skin, and yet it’s still cold. Still lifeless, she’s a sham of a ninja, a disgrace, a freeloader to the profession, but she doesn’t want to die. She doesn’t know how to return from this.

     She doesn’t know exactly when, but Tsunade knocks her out.

* * *

     When she comes to her head is pounding and she feels dizzy. Dizzy and foreign. Like her body is not her own and there’s a thin layer of _something_ between herself and her skin. It both feels like she’s too small and too large for her own body.

     When she opens her eyes it’s to the ceiling of Tsunade’s office. She hasn’t seen this ceiling before (or more accurately, hasn’t actively looked at it since most people don’t observe ceilings), but fits the pieces together to remember where she is. The rafters are empty of ever present ANBU, and there’s a slight crackle and glow to the boards that signals a barrier jutsu, a privacy and/or silencing jutsu. She isn’t sure which yet, she doesn’t know them well enough. Her mouth is full of cotton, and when she sits up she can feel the strain on her eyes and the weakness of her entire body. When she brings up her hands they shake and shiver as she stares at them to try and figure out why her own body feels wrong. It’s like she napped for too long and woke in the middle of her REM cycle, and the whole world is different. It’s like that but it’s worse.

     “You’re awake,”

     Sakura turns her head towards the voice automatically, wincing at the stiffness of her neck. (Now you’ve done it, Outer, couldn’t stop you from this one). It’s a small relief that she’s still there, no matter that now she’s faced with Tsunade, who looks calm, but Sakura can feel the fury under her skin in her chakra.

     “I am,” Her voice is hoarse. The first time she tries to speak she has to stop and clear her throat before her words come through.

     “I’m putting you on antidepressants, as a start,” Tsunade says, doctor face activated and tone even and firm. “It seems that therapy sessions with Dr. Toru weren’t enough. You’ll keep meeting with him every week for the next 6 months, then, if you show significant improvement in your mental health with the antidepressants we’ll see if we can reevaluate,” She’s walked over and handed Sakura a glass of water. She takes it and drinks the whole thing as obedient as she can be.

     “Your assigned psychiatrist will be Uchiha Mikoto, you know her. She’ll be in charge of your progress, working in conjunction with Dr. Toru and myself. She’ll be recommending dosages and types of medication. She’s been in charge of several, incredibly tough cases in the past, and has brought those ninja back up to fighting status with relatively healthy social lives, as healthy as they can be. Kakashi can talk you through her methods and what to expect from her.”

     Sakura feels like a child, but that’s what she is isn’t she. A child that despite the bravado and the weaponization of her own body and spirit, has no solid point to base herself off. She’s a child with no parents, and all children need models from which to base her ideals. As an orphaned civilian born ninja, she’s drifted.

     In a clan family, or even in any shinobi family, the morals, maybe aren’t looser, but are more applicable to their way of life. In a civilian family, her morals are to harm no one, to always be kind, to always help others, and to treat others like she wants to be treated. However she can’t apply those civilian morals to herself anymore, not as a ninja. Her profession is to harm others, to be brutal when told, to leave the despairing helpless on the street of a foreign village because the ascension of her own is more important than a starving orphaned child bloated with worms. She must treat others, namely strangers towards which the motto applies, with paranoia, sharp kunai and bared teeth, and understand that will try to kill her too when given the chance. She’s _lost_. A civilian-born ninja needs morals and rules that apply, otherwise the ninja that emerges after training is a bloodthirsty, unhinged mess, that ends up missing-nin and/or dead a few days later. The shift from quiet normalcy and small civilian problems to how she handles a dead body is too much without the proper steps, and nothing short of reprogramming, or the act of re-raising a child to fit the needs of the village will be enough to make the transition safely.

     Sakura has people close to her, maybe not the closest they could be, but she is surrounded by ninja. She has ties but none of them are close enough, or strong enough to re-raise her as a ninja, reform her into a functioning human being. She has Ino, but their relationship has never been one of such mentorship. She has the rest of Rookie 9, but it’s the same problem there, they’re still to young to understand what their morals are, even if they follow them instinctually. Tsunade and Shizune, mentors, both of them, but they’re already teaching her too much, at too fast a pace to consider slowing down or adding more to the mix. There isn’t enough time for Sakura to be re-raised by the pair when one was broken herself and the other barely managed to patch her together. They might be the closest thing to family she has at the moment, but unless they drop their duties, it will be impossible for Sakura to learn how to be human and the art of medicine from them at the same time. Kakashi is too broken to remold her himself. She thinks he’ll try to help, but ultimately he cannot do it alone.

     She’s lost, and doesn’t know what she needs to do or who to go to find herself again.

     “Sakura?”

     She jerks out of her thoughts, spiraling and spiraling.

     “Do you consent to treatment?” Tsunade asks, and after a pause, she adds. “I’m not going to give up on you,”

     It’s a line. A line from a white speck of sky far off sky is thrown into the deep dry well she’s found herself in. It’s not a full recovery, she might never again be the girl she was in the Academy, or the girl she was as a genin with her team, but it’s something.

     “I consent.”

     It’s like a boulder of tension is lifted off Tsunade’s shoulders and immediately she grabs the jug of sake from her desk and pours herself a generous glass before chugging it down. When she slams the glass, she’s still quite serious, but less so with some sake in her system.

     “Now please tell me why the first time I see you after the Chunin exams, which you passed, congratulations, you have a mental break in front of my desk,”

     Sakura opens her mouth to spill her speech, a watered down version of it with her mind distinctly not on the future few hours, but Tsunade doesn’t seem to be finished.

     “And why do I find out, from _ANBU_ no less, that my student has been having panic attacks in alleyways, and _not_ telling her therapist, or me, or Shizune, or _anyone_ , about them, and continuing to beat herself to a pulp at every chance she gets? I understand working hard, but with this as the result I am banning you from participating in rounds, or healing. You are officially quarantined to charts and books until your mental state improves enough for me to consider letting you back on so I know you won’t kill yourself with chakra exhaustion,”

     “I saw flags before but didn’t realize they were red until I knocked you out several hours ago. So tell me, what got you here.” 

     Her lips are dry and her mouth is dry and even though a line has been thrown it’s still difficult, so difficult to spill her mind and let someone know. To try to make someone understand her actions and reasoning when she barely knows them herself.

     “I shouldn’t be a chuunin,”

     It’s clearly not the answer Tsunade is expecting, maybe something about her parents, stress, expectations, her social life, but not about her profession. “What?”

     “I didn’t earn it, fully, by myself.”

     “You’re contesting your promotion?” Tsunade asks, bewildered enough to ignore her drink.

     “My success as a shinobi is the only thing going well in my life directly influenced by my own two hands.” Sakura swallows down the knot in her throat. “Gaara-san had to interfere in the last task on the grounds of my disqualification after killing a boy with medical chakra. Due to his intervention that changed my status from disqualified to promoted, I believe it was a biased review with a biased outcome, that does not qualify me the status of chuunin. I believe--,”

     Her voice breaks.

     “I believe I should be de--,” There’s a line in her life, but there’s also a noose. An impasse, a crossroads.

     “You think you should be demoted to genin?”

     Deep breaths Sakura.

     “Yes.”

     There’s silence as Tsunade mulls and Sakura closes her eyes to calm herself, in any way, shape, or form.

     “You don’t want to die?” Tsunade asks, and despite the brief second of pause, for the sake of her psych eval that’s already in the deep gutters of ‘oh shit’ she says no.

     “What would you do if you were demoted?”

     She’s yelling up from the bottom of the well that Tsunade doesn’t give up on her. It echos, maybe reaches the top distorted, but it reaches.

     “I have… a contingency plan,” Sakura says hesitatingly, but knows Tsunade sees right through her. Knows that Tsunade looks underneath the underneath because that’s a Team 7 legacy and motto, and something engraved in their very hearts.

     Tsunade sighs, deep and long, and so done with the world and her life. “I’m so glad I’m putting you on meds and under Mikoto. I’m so glad,” A last part is mumbled that Sakura overhears. “Crazy fucking genius children and a fucked up team legacy dear gods what have I done to deserve this.” She mumbles it while she reaches for her jug and unceremoniously chugs straight from it.

     Sakura is still waiting for her answer, baited breath and hammering heart. Tsunade slams the jug back onto the desk.

     “First of all, you will not be demoted to genin. Gaara, who wrote to me along with the rest of the judging panel at the committee who submitted their own reports on your performance during the tasks, sold me an account that even if you weren’t promoted at those exams, would be promoted by me as your Hokage in a field promotion that has nothing to do with bias or pity. You didn’t kill the boy, Sakura, you know that, you saved his life and used your brain. _Gaara,_ only interfered to make sure that you were officially promoted in that arena, since he was, as were the other Sand Siblings, not on the judging panel and wanted to make sure for himself.”

     “Sakura you brought a boy back to life on a pseudo battlefield, why are you under the impression that you wouldn’t be allowed on missions where you would increase the survival rates of your fellow shinobi?”

     “I used medical chakra to kill.”

     “It does seem unorthodox, and to that I can’t offer any true consolation. Sure you did that and sort of broke the doctor’s oath, but you’re not a doctor, or at least not in the regular sense of the word. You will be a doctor in the hospital when I’m done with you, but you are also a ninja. A ninja that develops talents she has in whichever way she thinks will serve her village best.”

     Tsunade takes another gulp of sake as Sakura sits ramrod on the couch, “I met a mednin a while back, Kabuto, who works for Orochimaru. He used medical chakra in an unorthodox way, a truly unorthodox way. But he developed those skills for himself, he uses those skills for himself, and uses them because those are the strongest things he has.”

     “Just because you used chakra, and a certain aspect and or wavelength of chakra for something that it isn’t usually used for doesn’t mean you’re rotten, or a disgrace to your profession. Chakra is a tool, it will always be a tool, and it is always the person behind the technique that sets its reputation. A jutsu is just a jutsu, it’s considered a bad jutsu or an evil one only because the people who have used it have used it for bad things. You can use a knife to stab a kitten, but you can also use a knife to cut a birthday cake. It doesn’t make you a bad person for picking up a knife.”

     Shinobi morals again, she doesn’t understand them, doesn’t have them, doesn’t know what to do with herself and this new avenue before her.

     “Do I have to use it? Now that I have once do I have to develop it?”

     Tsunade looks at her and takes another deep breath. Sakura mirrors her. “If you feel that you would be willing to do that for the village, than do it. I can’t order you to. If you don’t, then you don’t.”

     Tsunade swivels around in her chair so that she has one eye on her apprentice and one on the village below. “Human loyalty is fickle. As a contracted ninja of Konoha I expect you to apply your talents for the good of the village.”

     “You can be a shit ninja or an S-rank shinobi, but as long as you apply your skills to the missions you take, I cannot complain. As Hokage I cannot force you to improve or rise in rank. I cannot dictate the skills you learn or the abilities you develop. I can influence, as your mentor, and put in my two cents in your training, but to any other ninja I cannot ask that of them.”

     Tsunade pours herself another cup of sake.

     “In general, as Hokage I can’t force anyone under the rank of ANBU to take missions. Even then with ANBU there’s a great deal of balancing. You don’t have only a loyalty to your village. You have loyalties to your peers, your family, your beliefs, this is something that I cannot take away to make you mindless robots with no goals or personalities,--” She looks distinctly bitter as she says this, and Sakura furrows her brows. “--That’s what makes shinobi _human_ ; an ability to decide what they care about and what they want to do.”

     “We don’t automatically have to complete whatever mission you assign us?”

     “No, of course not.” Tsunade looks concerned that she even has to answer. “Unless you’re ANBU, or we’re at war, no shinobi contracted is forced to complete missions. If you don’t feel as if your skills are up to par, or if the mission interferes with any personal aspect of your life, you are not obligated to take the mission. You have the ability to request a different mission, however most ninja don’t have loyalty interferences, and complete the mission for their paycheck. It happens that most ninja here have their lives dedicated to Konoha, and would do anything for it.”

     “What kinds of loyalties would one need to have to legally exempt themselves out of a mission?”

     “Would you kill your whole family, cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents, parents, siblings dozens of family members, in the name of the protection of Konoha?”

     “No.”

     “Those kinds of loyalties.”

     Tsunade sighs. “In Sarutobi’s time and even now kids go too quickly into ANBU, they don’t know their contracts, and don’t know their rights and--” Tsunade’s next sigh is even louder, and her next words even quieter, and slip out easier with a jug of sake in her stomach. If Sakura hadn’t been holding her breath, she wouldn’t have heard. “-_Thank gods the little shit is a know-it-all and refused before he made the worst mistake of his life,” The information doesn’t seem important, but Sakura files it away anyway.

     “To finally answer your question,” Tsunade picks up her head. “Chakra by itself rarely harms. A technique without a wielder is only a collection of seals and signs, it’s how and for what the person uses it that determines in other’s eyes if it is good or evil. Weaponized medical chakra is ironic, and has only been completely used by Kabuto as far as I know, who’s made its reputation into something monstrous. You can use it and still be loved Sakura, and still be a medical ninja, and still a good person if you make the right choices.”

     “Here,” Tsunade says, reaching for something in her desk and tossing it towards Sakura. She catches the green material and tears up again as she sees the sigil for Konoha and Uzushio inscribed in the fabric.

     “You were supposed to get it tomorrow since officially, I have council meetings and unofficially, it’s my day off, but you should have it now. You might have almost killed that boy with a hasty experiment, but you also saved his life in the end, which is a worthy accomplishment deserving of a chuunin promotion. A thirteen year old bringing someone back from the brink of death, not to mention keeping her teammates alive in a really, _really_ brutal exam season, is not something that happens everyday. Gaara only pointed it out. Wear it with pride, you deserved it.”

     “Now, important lesson over, treatment administered, sit down girl, you’re going to get drunk with me.”

 

     Unsurprisingly, when she comes in, Shizune finds Sakura drunk off her ass and Tsunade laughing at her like a deranged hyena.

 

* * *

     When she comes back to her apartment, (still as raw as a beaten pork fillet, but better) with her new antidepressants in hand, Kakashi is sitting on her couch, fiddling with a rope. _The rope._

     The noose she had secured to her bathroom door that morning.

     When she and Kakashi lock eyes, she doesn’t say anything. Just lets the door shut with a final click behind her. Even before he says anything, her head wants to fall in deep shame with the way he’s staring into her soul. No more the lackadaisical pervert sensei with too much baggage but a serious, terrifying, precious person disappointed in her. She doesn’t like disappointing her precious people. She feels it, a grey blue pit of shame pulling down down and sucking her organs through her feet and into the cold floor.

     “ _Rule number 32: Suicide is never an option._ ”

     In the months when Team 7 was still active, Kakashi had given them a number of rules to remember in addition to (or to override) the standard shinobi code, some serious, some arbitrary. She’s never forgotten a single one. _Rule 1: While those who break the rules of the ninja world are trash, those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash. Rule 17: Shave with the grain, you don’t want razor bumps. Rule 29: Never pay a tab if you can help it; don’t leave a money trail._

     This is her first rule after the deactivation of Team 7, and when he gives it to her, his hands are white around the rope.

     Rules are good. She can follow rules. She nods.

     It’s the last time they speak of it.

 

     They eat dinner in relative silence, and Kakashi watches her carefully as she dutifully downs her first dosage of new package of antidepressant pills after. He makes her feel better by sparring with her, not as a clone, but him actually there, even though she’s had a hell of a day. He lets the pack out on her lumpy couch and Sakura falls asleep on the floor surrounded by dog fur and warmth. She thinks he sleeps on the couch, but isn’t quite sure since she wakes up achy with him already awake.

     She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t really want to speak, but she’s grateful that he was there. Grateful that he got take out last night. Grateful that he sparred with her. Grateful that he watched her take her antidepressants so that she didn’t have to sit there and stare at them and will herself to take them, even though she knows she needs them.

     He stays with her and monitors her food and water intake, reads his Icha-Icha, and lets her study. It’s quiet, and for the first time she feels safe. Safe and shut out from the world. It’s a nice change of pace.

     He has to leave at midday for a mission, and even though she lets him go without a fuss, already she can feel the safety evaporating as he makes his way towards her window.

     “Congratulations on making chuunin, Sakura,” He says as opens the hatch. “Remember your rules, and take your meds,”

     She nods, and when he leaves, the apartment is colder than when he was here. She studies, she reads, she eats, and she takes her meds, eventually falling asleep on her lumpy couch.

* * *

     Sakura is 13, a chunin, and on antidepressants when Tsunade shows her her prized hand seals. It’s the next morning after Kakashi left, and even though she’s on meds for a mental disorder, life doesn’t stop. Training doesn’t stop, and it’s the only trace of normalcy she has after coming back from Suna.

     After initial greetings and not so subtle psych eval, Tsunade sits her down and shows her the seals.

     “The initial drain on your system will be quite large, since you’ll need to keep the jutsu going for a while for the seal to develop. After you create the initial seal, you’ll need to manually store chakra in it.”

     Tsunade paused, letting the gravity of the situation settle in. “You are the only person in this entire world other than myself that will know this technique. You are the only other person with the chakra control _necessary_ to complete this technique. You cannot teach this to anyone willy-nilly, do you understand?”

     Sakura nods sagely after a deep breath. There’s anticipation bubbling in her gut.

     She shows her the seals. Or, seal, the single tiger sign.

     “It’s a single sign that activates Yin release. With the tiger sign you’ll focus on making a pocket in your forehead, why?”

     “The brain and/or head has a higher capacity for spiritual energy and chakra in general,”

     “Good. You’ll focus on creating a pocket of spiritual energy in your forehead. It’ll be small, but the point is to make the pocket itself, and then connect your cells to it. That takes the longest time. Ready?”

     “Yes.”

     “Begin.”

 

     It takes her 5 hours to get the seal on her forehead. The first hour of those 5 is spent on fully transforming her chakra into yin energy. The second hour is spent on creating the pocket and the corresponding diamond seal, with the last 3 hours spent connecting her cells to that pocket of yin energy. Connecting each and every cell, with its nucleus and corresponding DNA sequences so that they respond and create the necessary proteins for mitosis once the seal is activated, takes the most time and the concentration she needs with it (even with her chakra control) is phenomenal. When she finishes, when she creates that seal, it’s like the world has opened up again. She’s sweaty, most of her chakra is gone in the effort to patch every cell, but she has it. She has it. A smile, a small but true, euphoric smile slides onto her face.

     “Congratulations Sakura, you’ve started Creation Rebirth,” There’s pride, unmistakable pride in Tsunade’s voice as Sakura opens her eyes from her lying position on the grass. Oh the difference a few days can make. There’s still that thought in the back of her head of her past, current, and future failures, she thinks it will always be there, but today, this morning with the yin seal pulsing on her forehead, and the Konoha blue sky clear above her, she feels the most alive she has in weeks.

* * *

     Tsunade, ever the slave driver, had her work more on her strength after she’d gotten off the ground. She’d punched and kicked the boulders thrown at her until her hands were barely recognizable. With a strict order to heal herself as quickly as possible, she was shooed off to the hospital for Shizune’s tutelage as Tsunade dragged her feet back to the Hokage tower for a meeting. That’s how she ended up walking through the market, focusing on wiping the blood off her hands to prepare to heal them when she practically bumped into them.

     “Mikoto-san, Uchiha-san,” Sakura greets, trying as discreetly as possible to hide her bruised, swollen, and broken hands behind herself. It’s the least she can do considering her bedraggled, cat-dragged-through-the-mud-and-hit-by-a-fast-moving-cart appearance in the face of two cleanly and elegantly dressed shinobi in front of her.

     The two were dressed to the nines, however she’s sure that’s just Uchiha gene and not the actual price and cut of the clothes. Mikoto wore a dark dress, with her hair partly up and secured with several exceptionally decorative senbon, that had just a speck of chakra on them if Sakura was to trust her senses. Instead of the standard issue, rather gaudy looking blue sandals, she wore sensible yet pretty strappy heels. Even her toes, Sakura noticed as she completed a perfunctory bow while hastily trying to compose herself, are well manicured and painted in clear polish.

    As a counterpoint, Sakura is covered in dust, streaks of blood (on her clothes, thank god they were dark), sweat, and mud. Tsunade had promptly decided after Sakura activated her seal and promptly shoved a genjutsu on it to block the knowledge from others that she’s storing chakra, that since her newly promoted apprentice didn’t actually need any chakra for the Hospital, she could give a proper lesson on both dodging, and the art of shattering tons of stone. She was planning shower at the hospital before taking to the charts (she isn’t an unhygienic _monster_ ), but it seems that the bad (and the continuously confirming) impression has been made in terms of her appearance.

     “Sakura-chan! It’s so nice to see you! I heard, and now see you got promoted to Chuunin, congratulations!” Mikoto’s hands immediately went to Sakura’s shoulders, and instinctively, the girl ducked her head and tries her hardest not to flinch at the contact. Too much of her contact with other humans is confrontational and adrenaline inducing. The soft touch of congratulations is a strange and almost uncomfortable experience with no pain behind it. The last soft touch she received was Tsunade’s hands on her shoulders as she suffered through her break several days prior, and dredging up that memory was something she didn’t want to do quite yet.

     “Thank you,” Sakura jerks her head in a bow again as Mikoto slides her hands down to pull her hands from behind her back and clasp her hands. From the start of their meeting Sakura was trying to heal her broken hands as quickly as possible so as not to yelp when Mikoto eventually grasped them, or even give a visible sign to the lady that she was hurt. Unnecessary complications arose when people knew she was hurt, and she managed to just barely finish healing them to a decent, hand holding appropriate state before her hands came around in front of her. She’s hopes to the gods the two shinobi didn’t see that last flicker of green as Mikoto swung her hands around, but all hope is soon dashed.

     “Your hands?” It’s Itachi that speaks, and when she jerks her head in his direction, she just barely makes it to his chin before her head shoots down again in submission. He’s also sharply dressed, from what she can make out. All black clothing, just like his mother, and everything is tightly fitted and bound in the standard places with dark bandages. He looks ready to put on an ANBU vest and a full length katana and be on his way. She only notices two weapon packs on each hip.

     His similarity to Sasuke is uncanny, she assumes. She hasn’t actually seen his face, but he’s blood to Sasuke all the same. Inner pushes her around and berates her a bit when she aborts her goal to look at his face. The Sasuke who left should not be the one forcing her head down. She is a fucking chuunin now promoted and everything, and he’s still a traitor and a genin. _Lift your head up girl_ . _This is supposed to be your new era of change and bravery. Be brave this time, coward!_

     Her head jerks up to stare him right in the eyes, dark she notices, no hint of Sharingan red, just dark, and a pale, pale face that strongly resembles his mother’s. Where Sasuke, she’d noticed took after his father in the the jaw, Itachi seems to take after his mother in the cheekbones and eyebrows. He seems more feminine, still masculine, no doubt of that, but much more elegant. She reflects on this later, now only focusing on looking him straight in the eye unwavering, and offering a politely sheepish smile. She makes damn sure that her chin doesn’t drop a millimeter for the 25 centimeters he towers over her.

     “Just a training altercation, Uchiha-san,” She says, and he hums, which seems to be an Uchiha male trait, stares at her for a second longer, and turns his head away in disinterest. Bravery: +1. Inwardly she pumps a fist and howls.

     “Now you must come over for dinner again! I haven’t had anyone to truly tell about Suzuki-chan’s exploits, and I’m sure you have stories and concerns of your own from Suna. You’ll come tomorrow evening at 6. I can’t wait to see you there.” Once again, no choice, and Sakura must obey. Calm, chipper, and utterly domineering; a true Matriarch. A true woman Sakura wants to be one day.

     “Of course, Mikoto-san,” She’s aware that dinner is just a pretext. It’ll be her first check-up/visit with Mikoto as her official psychiatrist. Kakashi had told her that this was how she did things, never in an office or hospital setting, but somehow it’ll always be more terrifying sitting having tea and discussing her problems and medication than with her drawing blood with a large needle for hormone level and drug level checks. She does that herself too, he said.

     “Ah, we have more shopping to do and I’m sure you have to get to the Hospital. Take care Sakura-chan!” Mikoto says again, giving her palms one last squeeze, and sliding her way past. Itachi follows his mother without qualm or instruction.

     “Goodbye Mikoto-san, Uchiha-san,” Sakura says, and bows once more before they slip into the crowd, and just as easily the pair slips from her mind as she notices the time.

     She’s late to the hospital. Fuck.

* * *

     If someone were to say that she’s stressing over clothes like it’s a first date or some black tie gala, Sakura would punch that person and then vehemently deny the accusation. It’s not a first date, or a black tie gala, but it is the first time she might appear at the Uchiha compound not dressed like a train wreck. The last time few times she was in Mikoto’s company she was caught unawares, and thus unable to present herself in the light she wanted. It was dinner, so she couldn’t exactly wear her training gear and sit politely at the Uchiha Compound. But she also couldn’t ditch the training gear altogether and don a kimono or dress to fit into the aesthetic of the Compound, because she didn't, as a principle, no matter how pretty her dress would be.

     She can’t find anything passable as slightly formal yet casual, so she ends up in cleaner version of her dark green turtleneck, and bound pants. Her chuunin vest is zipped firmly on her chest, and even though she knows it’ll clash with the general atmosphere of dinner, she’ll be damned if she takes this strength from her person.

     The walk to and through the compound is uneventful. Only when she sees the Main House do the jitters step in. Vividly she remembers the suffocating feel of the Main Branches chakra signatures. Unfortunately, she can recall it quite accurately, all enormous masses chained or blocked in. It’s only as a countermeasure that Sakura fluffs her signature just a bit more so she isn’t crushed completely sitting at dinner as she was the last time after her parents’ death.

     Things to remember, she thinks as she smooths down her jacket and knocks on the front door. From what she can sense everyone is present in the house. Chin always up, she’s a chunin now (it still feels weird and almost not real when she thinks it), no cowardness allowed.

     It’s Itachi who opens to door, and Sakura greets him with a short bow and polite greeting, and after a brief second, he lets her pass through with a hum. Sakura gives herself bonus points for looking him in the eye when she rises from her bow, and not flinching at the similarities between him and Sasuke.

     He’s courteous enough to wait for her as she slips off her sandals, and then leads her towards the kitchen where his mother is. When Mikoto spots her with a happy smile and greeting, Itachi immediately grabs the plates from his mother’s hands and leaves towards the dining room, leaving the two alone. Whether he knows the true reason for her being there or not she doesn’t know, but assumes that as a genius, he’s probably figured it out.

     “How have you been Sakura?” Instead of the bright enthusiastic tone she had when the woman first saw Sakura in the market, her tone is soft. It’s so soft and caring and so _unexpected_ (well, who is she kidding, at this point any soft tone even remotely directed towards her is enough to move her) that Sakura feels the swell of emotion and the build up of tears that she immediately tamps down as she bows her head.

     “I’m alright, thank you Mikoto-san,”

     “I know formally I’m your psychiatrist, but if you ever need anything, someone to talk to, someone to distract you, or even a home, you have it here. The Uchiha’s will always be friend for you.” Mikoto takes Sakura’s hands in her own and squeezes them in complete honesty. This time Sakura can just barely restrain the heat of tears from spilling down her cheeks, or the swell of relief and awe at the knowledge and offer that she has somewhere to go to rather than just her own empty apartment if she needs it. She vows never to use it, of course, never to exploit the kindness this fierce and awe inspiring woman in front of her has offered her.

     “Thank you,” She physically cannot say anymore, and hopes that those two words convey the tsunami of gratitude she feels.

 

     Dinner as always is a quiet affair, broken by questions aimed her way, or her own compliments towards the food. She’s asked about her promotion, about Suna and the exams, about her studies with Tsunade (of which she keeps Creation Rebirth strategically hidden). She wants to ask her own questions, be bolder, but Fugaku is too stoic for her to consider to approach, and Itachi even more with an added layer of distance. With the two males in the room with her, she doesn’t feel like she can ask Mikoto any questions she would normally, about psychiatry, about genjutsu, about her youth. However when dinner ends Mikoto and Sakura end up back in their spot on the kitchen island with tea and dango. She can ask her questions, albeit tentatively because while she has resolved to be bolder and braver and grow, it’s still a work in progress. She doesn’t have anyone to remodel her and fit her with practical morals, or at least she thought she didn’t when she sat on the couch of Tsunade’s office with her hands quivering and her mouth filled with cotton. But with the woman in front of her opening her home and maybe heart to her, she thinks that maybe she’s found someone that will help her really fix herself.

* * *

     When she gets home to her apartment laden with leftovers, it’s still slightly cold and slightly barren, but she sees the knickknacks she’s picked up from Suna and from her old home, remembers the warmth and open doors of the Uchiha home and the Matriarch within, and thinks that,

     Maybe, just maybe, she’ll be ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wHadAyA thiNk? ? i love reviews, i feed off of them


	10. with wings of time the sun is close, the warmth seeps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI  
> OH MY GOD THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE 1000+ KUDOS HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, IM SO HAPPY ALL OF YOU LIKED THIS FIC SO MUCH TO CLICK KUDOS, AND I APPRECIATE AND DEARLY TREASURE EVERYONE WHO'S LEFT A COMMENT NO MATTER HOW SMALL  
> I LOVE YOU  
> anyways, last chapter took, a lOT out of me, so i do apologize that this chap is a bit late, in compensation (since it got too long) i split and made the original chapter 10 into chap 10 and 11,  
> i WANTEd to post these on march 28th, since it was sakuras bday, but they weren't ready yet, and then i wanted to give yall this double update on april fools because i think thats how the holiday works bcz im usre all of you would think i was calling a hiatus but then APRIL FOOLS lmao im not, its just another long as fucking chapter  
> anyway!  
> ch10 we have here is much lighter, since after last chapter sakura needs some lovin, and yall wanted more precious peopl interactions so i wanted to fit them all in (a bit of plot is scattered between, so it's not all FWP)  
> HOPE YALL ENJOY, I LOVE YOU ALL ALOT

     Sakura spends three years with her antidepressants. She didn’t think it would take this long for her to consider going off the meds, but isn’t really surprised. It’s been three years since Kakashi watched her down her first dose, three years since she’d had to ask Mikoto for a refill, three years since her life had started to get better. As much as she wished to get off the meds in a couple of months, equate her mental recovery to the physical, her brain had other ideas. Each time her mood plummeted to the point where the only thing she could do was overwork or spar herself into unconsciousness, Mikoto and Tsunade increased her planned doses up to 9 months. Once, twice, three times, and eventually when she’d been generally fine for a solid 9 months, (three years after starting), she can consider stopping and weaning herself off.

     She knows that she’ll never be the same happy-go-lucky gal she was before, knows that she’ll always have a hidden pit of darkness and despair in her gut and a shaky balance of serotonin and norepinephrine that won’t balance well enough no matter how much medication she chucks at it. Sakura knows that there will be days where she might want to stay in bed and wallow or overwork herself or do _something_ to motivate herself that would be considered quite dangerous, and knows that in the end she’ll be in a better place than she was three years ago.

     It’s been 3 years of daily medication, and honestly Sakura can’t wait to stop taking it. Chronic illness is a _bitch_. 

     When she brings up the topic of stopping to Mikoto during their weekly chat at the Main House, 10 months after her last episode, the woman smiles kindly, and sets out a plan.

     “No quitting cold turkey Sakura-chan!” she had said gravely, “If you quit cold turkey it’ll be as if you’re three years in the past. We’ll taper; decrease your doses for the next couple of months until you’re completely off. If all goes according to plan, you’ll be completely independent of them by Christmas.”

     Sakura had nodded, and then helped Mikoto decorate the dining room in the most annoying, bright, ostentatious, and cheesy decorations the woman could find for Fugaku’s birthday. She loves annoying him, and he can’t ask her to stop since it makes her so happy.

     Her relationship with the Uchiha branch had improved in the three years she’d visited them for dinner. She goes once a week, and for three years that totals to at least 150 dinners if she disregards the times she’s been away on mission or the clan had other responsibilities. She’s still a bit shy around the Uchiha of the branch families, but since she’d healed so many in clinic it’s easy to smile and wave as she passes by on her way to the Main House. It’s been so long that even looking at an Uchiha doesn’t choke her up with a memory of Sasuke, and she’s grateful that she can now look at acquaintances and not want to tear her skin open. They’re all a stoic bunch, but she’s learned that that quality is raised and not genetic. The Uchiha children for example, are lively and boisterous, and generally sweethearts when she meets them in the streets or in her patient rooms.

     With the Main family, it’s slightly different. She’s close with Mikoto, and has spilled almost her entire heart to the woman who’d opened the doors for her. With stories and hot tea, and conviction made of steel, Mikoto had slowly nudged the little pink haired girl into a place of confidence, where she has something to land solidly on if she ever falls.

     That’s family, protecting them and those she holds dear and precious and doing no matter what to keep them safe.

     It’s a moral that Sakura had been reaching for but had never quite realized she could grasp until Mikoto had slowly peeled back the curtain on how she safeguards her family. Sure she protects the Uchiha clan as a whole, but they pale in comparison to her immediate family; her husband, and her two sons. She does everything in her power to keep them safe and happy. She uses and sometimes abuses her powers of Matriarch to get her son vacation time from ANBU, makes sure to always be available if either of her precious people want to train with her (as a genjutsu mistress she’s strongly protective of her secrets, any spar with Mikoto is worth the price). She forces them into health checks and watches the politics of the clan and the village with an eye of a hawk, and if she ever sees something amiss she kills it before it has a chance to fester and hurt those she holds dear. Fugaku, Itachi, Sasuke, they are everything to her, and Sakura does not doubt that she will lay down her life for their safety and survival.

     They’ve never outright discussed Sasuke, but Sakura knows and sees the way she stills a bit when something reminds her of him, the way stiffens and sharply taps the counter with her nails that she’s agitated, slightly lost, and anxious that her youngest is away from where she can see that he is well. Sakura notices this tick a bit concerning her oldest as well, the way he’s more often gone than not during dinners, and the way he leaves soon after he comes home for a new mission. Mikoto is like a bear in the way she protects her young. Viciously, with no room for a threat from the outside able to get close. Sakura thinks that Sasuke’s departure weighs heavier on her that it seems.

     Sakura makes it her life goal one night while lying in bed after talking with Mikoto, that she will protect those that are hers no matter the cost, no matter the mean. She doesn’t have siblings or parents to apply this too, but Ino, Kakashi, Naruto, Tsunade, Shizune, Anko, Mikoto, she’ll protect them from harm with everything she has until her last breath. She hasn’t quite told them of her plans, but, well, she’s sure they’ll figure it out along the way.

     Constant exposure to wonderful Mikoto led to nearly constant exposure to her husband. Fugaku is a stoic man, like all Uchiha, but she’s sure his temperament is what the others base theirs off of. He speaks when he believes it necessary, and tries to make conversation when the atmosphere is awkward but usually quickly gives up. Over their weekly dinners eventually awkward silence is too much to bear (there’s only so many times the man can ask how her training is progressing, or what clans they are meeting on the weekend), and it’s easier to start talking. She learns that Fugaku is greatly interested in military tactics, and thus is more than enthusiastic about chess and shogi. She plays with him a few times after dinner a few months into her visits at his insistence, and he’s a formidable player. Sakura had played with Shikamaru a few times before and lost nearly every game, but she’s awed to see that she wins 2 games out of 5 against Fugaku. They’re quite terrible odds, but considering at the time she was a 13 year old chuunin playing against a 40 something year old jounin and clan head, she’s proud. Although as months go by and their chess and shogi matches become a fixture towards her evenings at the Main House, she thinks that Fugaku sets up a few games so she wins on purpose, she can’t be sure though. 

     He seems to appreciate her ability to navigate a conversation, stay quiet when the tension is so and speak when it is lax. He seems to appreciate her attempts at conversation and she thinks she sees him smile just once when she tells a subtle joke, but really she can’t be sure. He’s a quiet man who loves his wife and would do anything for her, that Sakura can tell right off the bat. There’s a push and a pull in their relationship with Mikoto generally coming out on top, but he never seems to mind all that much. It’s easy to remember her own parents when she’s here, but with the warmth from the kitchen and the fullness of her stomach, the grief is calmer. When she’s at the Main House it’s like a bubble descends, and nothing can hurt her here. Sakura likes it.

     While with the Matriarch and her husband her bond is close and growing closer even still, with the Clan Heir it’s… Distant.

     Itachi is most often than not away on missions (if Mikoto doesn’t force a vacation on him). If he is there for dinner, he appears just early enough to help set and disappears right after he takes care of as many dishes as he can. Unlike Fugaku, who while dislikes starting conversation but tries anyway, Uchiha Itachi doesn’t speak unless he finds it absolutely necessary. They haven’t directly spoken to each other further than a few sentences, but with his presence at the dinner table Mikoto is automatically happier, and with her happiness, it’s too easy for Fugaku and Sakura to also be happy. It gets to a point in this subtle conditioning where when Sakura sees Itachi in the village, it’s difficult not to be happier that she was previous.

     Since she has never had a reason to speak with him directly, she doesn’t know much about him beyond what Mikoto has told her. From what she’s experienced in her three years of casual coexistence with him, he’s a polite man, courteous, but not one to interact with the public. He’s like a rock, or a boulder in his silence—cold, yet somehow comforting when he’s on his home turf.

     In the three years she’s been visiting this family, she’s glad to have known them just a bit better. 

* * *

 

     Mikoto had decided in no uncertain terms that Sakura had to spend the Saturday before her 16th birthday at the Main House, where the main family would throw her a small birthday bash. Her protests were quickly silenced by Mikoto’s enthusiasm and subsequent raised eyebrow. The pink haired girl had insisted that whatever Mikoto was planning wouldn’t be anything larger than the usual weekly dinner. The woman had been skeptical, but she had eventually agreed.

     Now here Sakura was, furiously sensing with her chakra whether there were any other signatures in the house to indicate a surprise party of any size. She senses only Mikoto and Fugaku, (Itachi absent due to a mission that was supposed to end any day now, according to Mikoto) and tries to calm down just a bit. No surprise party. Normal dinner, it’s just a normal dinner.

     Sakura takes a deep breath, smooths down her flak jacket and tries to paw off the stray bit of dust. She’d thought to dress up, but then she’d be contradicting her own wishes if she’d asked Ino to help primp. However it _is_ the Main House, and they _are_ celebrating her birthday, so she’d worn a new long sleeved shirt and done her best to wash the grime off her jacket and medic pouch that she’s taken to wearing everywhere she goes. She knocks on the door and waits for the nearing of Mikoto’s chakra, and the subsequent footsteps that follow to let her in. She’s nervous.

     In previous years Sakura had managed to be out of the village for her birthday. Her 14th birthday was spent at the Daimyo residence completing annual check-ups with Shizune, and she’d been careful not to mention the significance of the date. Shizune had known regardless, and pawned off a rare new poison recipe scroll for her to pour over, but other than that, it passed as any other day. It just so happed that her birthday fell flat in the middle of the mission, where if people wanted to celebrate or get her things it would be too early to present it to her before the mission, and too late after. She didn’t quite mind the lack of gifts or bustle around the date, and at that time was glad to have it as a day that passed with little note. Just another year of medication, trying to get better, and routine. However she would be lying if she said she didn’t cry that night at the thought of her dead parents and no more birthdays spent with flimsy paper party hats and small pink cakes with a growing number of candles.

      Her 15th birthday was spent with Kakashi on a border patrol rotation. He’d taken a small vacation from ANBU, and since Sakura needed to experience a shift at the border, he’d signed up with her to show her the ropes and catch up. He was away an awful lot, and Sakura had a sneaking suspicion that he took the vacation because of the date, but she never outwardly asked.

     All of March and beginning of April was spent on the border of Fire and Rain, running the border at sunset and sunrise, and sparring with Kakashi and some of the other chuunin stationed there. She never mentioned her birthday there either, but on the 28th Kakashi gifted her with the seals to a new jutsu, and let her sleep with his ninken on the floor around her.

     She didn’t cry that year, but time does have a way of diluting grief. It’s never forgotten, but rarely does it rear its ugly head with its former strength.

     Now here she was, 16th birthday right around the corner, and no missions where she could apply her skills or gain experience in a new area to be found. Tsunade had caught on. It would be a nerve wracking year. She’d avoided all well-wishers for the past two years, and now she will begin to pay the price. (Why are everyone she loves high ranking (or climbing to high rank) shinobi?)

     Her first congratulatory dinner, courtesy of Mikoto, at turning 16 and surviving another year. The nervousness Sakura feels is palpable.

     Mikoto opens the door and with a bright smile ushers her in. The hallway looks normal as she’s pushed through directly into the dining room, and forced into her usual spot. There are pink streamers on the back of her chair, and the pillow she’s sat on is new and embroidered with petals.

     “Mikoto-san! Let me help finish setting--,”

     “No! No! You deprived me of celebrating your birthday the last two years, even though I’ve stuck, mostly, to your wishes, I’m not letting you help!”

     “But Mikoto-san--,”

     “No buts! You’re the birthday girl Sakura-chan!”

     Sakura gives up with a sigh as Mikoto shushes her unseen from the kitchen. Sakura might be developing her own will of steel, but it is in no way a match for the Uchiha Matriarch, (not yet).

     When she takes full note of her surroundings, it’s difficult to quell the fond exasperation. Mikoto had hung up streamers (most likely with Fugaku’s help), all in dark Uchiha reds and whites, and set a beautiful flower arrangement (courtesy of the Yamanaka flower shop) on Itachi’s usual place across from her, consisting of flowers of red and white, with sprigs of blue and small shoots of pink. She couldn’t name the flowers if she tried, none of them are poisonous or have significant medicinal value to her. However it’s symbolic, and beautiful, and Sakura doesn’t have a name for the emotion just as much as she doesn’t have the names for the flowers.

     There’s also a small box, wrapped in black paper and pink ribbon. She feels her heart pick up at the small, carefully wrapped gift, and feels a swell of what can’t be anything but love and appreciation towards the people in this home. They didn’t have to, had no obligation to, and yet they did all the same. Sakura feels the swell of emotion begin to turn into tears, and shoves it down quickly. (Who cries on her birthday anyways?)

     It’s difficult not to smile when surrounded by efforts made in your direction, and Sakura is no exception. Conversation during dinner is light, filled with new of acquaintances, anecdotes, and Mikoto’s stories of her own past birthdays her teammates. When this would usually bring her down, thinking of her teammates and what never was and couldn’t ever be, it doesn’t tonight, not in this house, in this _home._

     Dinner ends, and Mikoto brings out a small cake (not pink, but a fancy swirl of white cream and strawberries, and no more than 1 candle), Sakura can almost feel like the grey in her past is erased. Like she isn’t alone, and she isn’t going to go home to a cold apartment and a cold bed and an empty fridge. In this safe space, a haven, an oasis in a desert that while isn’t always available, is there when she needs it most. Being here, in this warmth, in a home—it’s the best gift she could possible receive.

     When she says this, quietly, that being here for her birthday and celebrating with them was the best gift they could ever give her, that’s enough for Mikoto to give her a fierce hug that makes it hard for her to breathe, and for Fugaku to give her a comforting pat on her shoulder.

     It’s too difficult then, at that moment to restrain her tears that have been bubbling steadily, and too quickly for her to shove down. She scrubs furiously at her eyes as Mikoto smooths her hair and Fugaku squeezes her shoulder, just once, before letting go and going back to his seat to eat his slice of cake. Mikoto lingers, but eventually when Sakura composes herself from her 2 minute grateful cry, all she can say is—

     “Thank you,”

     And with it she hopes that the sentiment conveys. They’re her precious people now. What they’ve given her, what they’ve done for her has only reiterated her previous conviction made those years ago. She will fight tooth and nail to protect them, they are _hers,_ and nothing will ever change that.

     Mikoto is all smiles, clasping and squeezing Fugaku’s hand under the table. (They’ve always wanted a daughter, and while it hadn’t worked out biologically… he squeezes her hand in return.)

     “Now! Waterworks taken care of, let’s move on to gifts! It’s not a lot, just the flowers and this!” Mikoto hands Sakura that box with the box ribbon sitting next to the vase of flowers.

     “Mikoto-san, Fugaku-san you shouldn’t have,”

     “We wanted to,” Is Fugaku’s reply and she ducks her head again in thanks, and pulls the ribbon and black paper packaging apart.

     There’s a box underneath and when she opens that, she’s met with a pair of gloves. There’s a note of quality that she picks up and reads, and once she finishes reading she looks up shocked at the two sitting across from her.

     “Do you like them? They’re made of the leather of one of the giant armored mole rats native to south Land of Wind,”

     “Thank you, so much,” Sakura says, because she’s speechless. High quality leather is a commodity, such leather of a giant armored mole rat, a secretive and reclusive creature yet utterly vicious when provoked… The leather made for such gloves is thin, and yet almost indestructible, thus highly priced and valuable. Not to mention due to the rarity of the material it almost never travels this far north up to Konoha.

     “How? This must have cost a fortune to get—regular gloves would have been fine, Mikoto-san, Fugaku-san this is too much!”

     “Nonsense! Think of it as a gift not only for this year, but for the past two years you skipped out. Plus! We didn’t know what to get you for the longest time, Itachi only mentioned that gloves would be in order since most of your techniques involve your hands. It was the perfect idea, since if you hadn’t gotten a pair by now you probably didn’t know where to start looking,”

     Sakura slides the gloves on and marvels at the way they fit seamlessly onto her hands.

     “This material is the best for a ninja with skills like yours. They’re thin and should be tight enough that healing shouldn’t be problem, they’re chakra conducive, which means you will be able to use your enhanced strength, and also heat and water proof, and generally almost impossible to tear upon impact. It was the most fitting glove we could find,” Fugaku says.

     Sakura laughs at the pun, (despite the stoic demeanor, Fugaku makes jokes, and puns, however rarely does anyone laugh at them since his expression doesn’t change at all), and revels it the way it feels like she’s barely even wearing gloves.

     “How did you find a pair so far north?”

     “Itachi had a mission a while back in South Wind, I asked him to grab a pair in your size.”

     “Thank you. For everything,”

 

     Once dessert tapers out, Fugaku challenges her to a game of chess. It’s a weekly tradition at this point, however rather than their usual 5 games, he can only play two with her tonight out of clan responsibilities.

     He wins the first round, as usually happens, but Sakura notices that he sets up the game so she wins their second and last round.

     “Ah, Fugaku-san, you let me win that time,”

     “I did no such thing Sakura-san,”

     “You did!” Three years ago she wouldn’t have even _considered_ , arguing with the Uchiha Clan Head. However now her pride is at stake.

     “If I did, I have immunity. It’s your birthday celebration. I can hardly let the birthday girl suffer two humiliating losses in a row,”

     Sakura exaggerates her disgruntlement by gasping.

     “That first time was not a humiliating loss! That game was close!”

     “If it was close, then you won fair and square this game, Sakura-san,”

     “Fugaku-san!”

 

     After playing with the Clan Head, Sakura travels to the kitchen where Mikoto has already set out the tea. It’s routine. The woman sits down at the counter and Sakura sits across like she’s done for the past three years.

     “How are you?”

     Mikoto always starts her conversations with Sakura with that one question. The first few times Sakura had answered the customary, casual, ‘I’m good,’ the woman had refused that as an answer, and now as a rule she had to answer completely honestly, with three words minimum in her response.

     “I’m actually good,”

     “Ah Sakura-chan, you know I don’t accept that as an answer,”

     “But I am! This past week has been, good. My poisons in the lab are developing nicely, my healing time for various procedures has gone down, I got to celebrate my birthday here with you and Fugaku-san and it was wonderful! And since we started tapering I haven’t noticed any significant withdrawal symptoms. I’m good,”

     Sakura takes a sip of her tea.

     “That’s wonderful! How has Kakashi been? I haven’t seen him in a while,”

     “He’s out and about, generally taking missions, but he seems the same as always, if a little more stressed now,”

     “Hm, try to get him in to me, we need to have a recap session with him,”

     “Of course, Mikoto-san,”

     “And Ino? How has she been?”

     “She’s started an apprenticeship in TI, and when she isn’t working with Anko-senpai and Ibiki-san, she’s at the flower shop,”

     “Are you planning to celebrate your birthday with her?”

     “Yes, the evening of. She promised me we could stay at home and watch movies instead of going out,”

     “And the rest of your group? You’ve still been training with Rock Lee and Guy right?”

     Sakura nods her head in assent. “Not as often now with my duties at the Hospital and training under Tsunade, but we still train together at least once a week in the mornings,”

     “Now tell me Sakura-chan, do you have a man in your life?”

     Sakura groans in exasperation. “Mikoto-san you’ve been asking me that every week for the past year and the answer is still the same! No! I’m too busy for dating, or meeting guys to date, or whatever,”

     “Ah Sakura-chan, Sakura-chan, you’ll find your man someday, I’m sure. As long as you don’t force it everything will fall into place before you know it,”

     “Mikoto-san, you’ve said this exact same thing more times than I can count,”

     “And it’s true no matter what! Plus, if you were to get a man in your life it would take me an entire 4 months to get that out of you! I might as well start now and make sure I catch that moment before it’s too late and I can impart womanly advice! It’s so difficult to get you to confess those kinds of things,”

     “It’s difficult because there isn’t anything to say about them. You question me every single week and my answer is the same because there’s nothing _to_ say, and only when things actually happen can I tell you about them. I’m not hiding information of a secret boyfriend from you I _promise_ ,”

     Mikoto hums, and sips her tea. “You better,”

     “How are things here?”

     “Ah same old, Fugaku is continuing to work on decreasing the tension between the Hyuuga and Uchiha, there’s a meeting on Monday to try and hammer out more details to a more peaceful coexistence, and maybe even recruit some of the Hyuuga into the Police Force, but they’re fighting. I’ve been snooping around the markets and some of the old elders’ places, and found a collection of interesting recipes. I’ve been trying my hand at this one soba noodle recipe, and also this one mixture that causes a neurotoxic effect,”

     “In the same kitchen?”

     Mikoto laughs at Sakura’s concerned expression. “It’s my kitchen dear, those who know, know to step away and not enter my attempts at mind altering substance making. Speaking of which, you are the better brewer, and I haven’t been able to crack the recipe, it’s quite old and worn. You’ll be a dear and visit to help me figure it out? There’s a vial of the stuff in it for you,”

     “Of course I’ll come and help. Have you figured out the soba noodle recipe?”

     “Yes, it was a load of bullshit,” Only Mikoto would swear at soba noodle recipes, and nothing else. “Never trust an old soba noodle recipe. There’s a reason it’s been forgotten,”

     Sakura barks a laugh.

     “Itachi has been away on mission, and like I said last week, should be coming home any day now,”

     “That’s good,”

     “Yes, however something is bothering me about him,”

     “Hm?” Sakura asks before sipping her tea.

     “Some of the ancient elders have planted in Itachi’s head that she should start looking for wife. He’s still 19, 20 in a few months, but for our time that is too young to be considering marriage. At least I think so,”

     “If you think so there must be good reason for it,”

     Mikoto nods.

     “Problem is, it’s not all of the elders who have begun the pressure, just two out of the whole lot. I can’t put my foot down as Matriarch to stop the pressure unless there’s a majority supporting and acting on the idea without the support of Matriarch--Matriarch privileges: veto power over the clan elders when they decide to do something not of this time to the younger generation. Since I couldn’t stop those two, Itachi got it in his head that he _does_ need to start looking for someone to wed in a few years’ time, and that’s the opposite of what I want him to do!”

     “As long as you don’t force it, everything will fall into place,” Sakura parrots, and Mikoto slaps her hand on the counter.

     “Exactly!”

     “He has a large fanbase, and one of the girls in it is Uchiha Izumi. She’s a far off, very, very distant cousin of his, her mother married out of the clan but she kept her Uchiha name. Quite a strong girl, but I’ve met her a few times and refuse to invite her for dinner,”

     “Uchiha Izumi? She works at the hospital as a nurse,” She’s one of the more antagonistic ones towards Sakura, for a reason she cannot name. She’s also the one that had been the most patronizing towards Sakura when she first met Tsunade and Shizune, and begun her apprenticeship.

     “Yes, I’ve been told she wants to study as a doctor, but that idea has been flying around for a few years now with no fruition,”

     “I’ve heard the same, but haven’t seen any paperwork for it,”

     Mikoto scrunches her nose. “Her Sharingan use is above average though, which is why I guess Itachi decided that she’s someone to mix genes with,”

     “That’s, an interesting way to put it…,” Sakura mumbles, while taking another sip of her tea.

     “I still don’t want to invite her to dinner,”

     “Why?” Personally Sakura probably wouldn’t either. She coexists with Izumi, and lets professionalism in the Hospital override the unpleasantness of being targeted by an older woman for no obvious reason. She’s been bullied before, she can handle it.

     “If Itachi is deadset on marrying her, I will be civil, and yes, eventually invite her to dinner. However I do not believe that Itachi loves, her, or that she truly loves him!”

     “Fangirls can be a bit obsessed,”

     “She’s obsessed with the idea of him! I’m well aware that my son is a proverbial catch, however I want him to find someone he’s happy with, not for the purpose of appeasing the elders. He's even said he wants to start sparring with her!”

     “What’s wrong with sparring?”

     “Nothing to the outside eye, but that was how I decided I’d marry Fugaku and he me. We sparred, a courtship through spars that tested each other, and our conviction to our relationship,”

     “That sounds… awfully romantic,”

     “It was wonderful! We would first spar in the Uchiha training grounds then he’d have a sort of picnic set up where we would eat and talk,”

     “Maybe then if they spar both Izumi-san and Uchiha-san will also get to know each other better—enough to truly develop feelings for each other,”

     “Sakura-chan I really don’t know why you continue to be so formal when speaking of Itachi, you’ve known him for three years already, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too wild of a change to use his given name,”

     “I’ve barely spoken 50 words to him directly in the 3 years I have supposedly known him, I couldn’t do that,”

     Mikoto sighs, but drops the digression.

     “Maybe they will, and sparring will be a good way for them to get to know each other, but the thing is that courtship sparring is like sex,”

     “Mikoto-san!”

     “You’re 16 Sakura-chan, no need to be embarrassed by it!”

     “Still a few days off,”

     “Doesn’t matter—but really! The courtship spars that Fugaku and I had, and what I assume Itachi plans with Izumi-san, is like sex! The part after with the picnic is only an afterglow where you discuss deeper feelings, and topics more complex than ‘what’s your favorite food?’ and ‘what are some of your pet peeves?’”

     She sighs. “He should already know those things going into courtship spars. He’s pushing, instead of letting it happen as it should,”

     Sakura has nothing to say to that, but feels an inkling of the unease Mikoto must be feelings.

     “I just want him to be happy—satisfied with his life and relationships at home so he doesn’t feel the need to take missions back to back until he’s killed in one,”

     “It’s as you say Mikoto-san, if it’s meant to happen, it’ll happen. The reverse is then true as well,”

     “Only time will tell,” Mikoto sighs again, and pours herself and Sakura another cup of tea. “Now, we’ve talked too much about me. Tell me more about that new poison you’re working on.”

     While the rest of the evening is spent in casual conversation, Sakura doesn’t forget Mikoto’s concern.

* * *

     Two days before her 16th birthday, Sakura meets Tsunade at Training Ground 5, not at 7 as she usually does, but at noon.

     “Remember, using this technique will take time off of your life. The telomeres protecting the ends of your chromosomes _will_ be shortened, thus reducing the amount of times your cells can go through mitosis, shortening your life span. Use it too often, too carelessly, and you will die much sooner than expected. I only give you permission to use Creation Rebirth when neither you, nor your patient has a chance of survival. In any other situation where either in the party is in any capacity to either bring you back to me, or nurse you back to health, I explicitly forbid you from using it. Is that clear?”

     “Crystal,”

     Sakura has been slowly siphoning chakra in to her seal, and expanding the packet of chakra space in her forehead for the past three years. Three years in the making, and she knows, and feels that she cannot possibly siphon anymore chakra without disastrous results. The pocket was like a balloon—small but then when filled with a constant stream of water it stretched and stretched until it’s almost at a breaking point. When she looks in, the amount she has is dizzying, and it’s begun to have outwardly effects. Her head feels constantly full, uncomfortably so, and from it she has more headaches, and her balance just feels slightly off. When she’d confessed this to Tsunade, the woman had excitedly split a bottle of sake with her (which did _nothing_ for her head), and told her to meet her the next day.

     That’s how they end up in Training Ground 5 with a small crowd watching as Tsunade holds a katana at her defenseless apprentice.

     Tsunade looks at her apprentice gleefully with a katana waving carelessly in her hand.

     “Oh my _fucking_ gods,”

     The plan, told to her when she was drunk was more palatable than when she’s faced with the cold (steel) reality of the matter. The easiest way to clear some of that chakra into a comfy balance, was to test the jutsu. Test if Sakura worked it out, and get her back into tip top shape; two birds with one stone.

     “And if the seal doesn’t work?”

     “Well then be glad I’m your mentor and not some other ninja, otherwise you’d be _fucked_ ,” Tsunade says with a wide grin. The crowd keeps getting bigger, she’s about to be skewered

     Anxiously, Sakura rubs her face and eyes as she paces around in a small circle. Katana, gut, possible death, wonderful. “Why did you call a crowd?!”

     Tsunade just grins, it’s impish.

     “So Orochimaru and Jiraya get to showcase their apprentices with various stunts out of the village and I can’t?”

     Sakura sweatdrops. Fucking team rivalries. They’re all children.

     The crowd is whispering amongst themselves. She sees Ino in the middle of the throng, with the rest of the Konoha 12 (sans Sasuke and Naruto of course) grouped around her. Dear god they’re all there. Since Ino is there, that means there’s no chance of Sakura being stabbed on Training Ground 5 _not_ spreading through the village.

     Kakashi is there with Guy boasting something loudly, and she can also see Anko, Genma, Izumo, and Kotetsu all sitting in preparation for a show.

     “What did you tell them we were going to do?!”

     “Eh, a bit of this, a bit of that,”

     Sakura covers her face with her hands and tries not to groan as loudly as she wants to.

     “Alright! The crowd seems big enough that a line will get down to Orochimaru and Jiraya that I too, have an apprentice I’m passing stuff down to. Maybe then they’ll stop being assholes about their overpowered bullshit.”

     Sakura makes a mental note not to drink with her anymore when there are important matters at stake.

     “Great! When I stab you, you’re going to first try and see if you can heal yourself without Creation Rebirth. When I say you can, aka, when you realize you’re about to bleed out because the rate of healing isn’t quick enough, you can activate the jutsu with a tiger seal. Got it?”

     “Yes.”

     “To make sure you don’t dodge out of the way I’ll stab you when you least expect it, ok?”

     “Sure Tsunade-shishou, whatever you say,” Sakura says, and swallows. She’s about to get stabbed through the gut with a katana. Any minute now.

     “Anywhooo, I don’t think I mentioned this but Naruto is supposed to visit with Jiraya for a few days in June.”

     That gets her attention.

     “Really?!”

     “Yup, they’re leaving soon after for another long term mission I have for them, but I’m sure Naruto is still looking for Sasuke,”

     The mention of Sasuke and Naruto’s continued persistence makes her grimace a bit, but she’s glad he’s visiting. She gets letters from time to time, but since he’s always traveling it’s difficult to keep a rapport. He tries to send a letter every few months, and they’re always very, _very,_ long, and sometimes difficult to read with the sheer magnitude of kanji squished onto the sheet of paper. However she’s glad to see that his kanji usage _has_ been improving and getting more complex, and the grammatical errors have slowly disappeared. Jiraya’s work then, at least one good thing has come out of Naruto’s apprenticeship to him.

    “Is there any news on where he and Orochimaru are?”

    That’s when she gets stabbed—to the general horror of the spectating crowd. Sakura thinks she would have heard a few gasps if she hadn’t immediately felt blistering, tearing pain in her abdomen as a katana goes right through her. Instinctually she curls in towards herself and coughs a hunk of blood, and then falls to her knees as the katana twirls and retreats out of her body. _Gods_ it _hurts_. She can barely breathe, and it feels like any and all energy she had has been sucked out of the katana as it pulled out, leaving her limp like a ragdoll. She can feel the entrance and exit wound _burning_ , but a small part of her mind is interested that she doesn’t feel her insides at all when she brings a hand up on instinct to examine and feel. It makes sense since the amount of nerves in the body over the internal organs is way less than on the skin, but it’s one thing to read about and another to experience. Her wound is a jagged messy thing that showcased the fleshy red of her stomach. Her viscera feel squishy.

    Distantly she hears Tsunade yell at her to heal herself, and when she raises her hands and weakly brings her healing chakra to the entrance wound, she finds that it’s too difficult to concentrate with two points of burning pain on her body. Chakra flickering in and out she can feel her heartbeat get louder in her ears and feel her clothing seeping with blood. Then she hears Tsunade give her the command.

    When she makes the tiger sign and activates her seal, she _feels_ , as the lines shoot down her face and an influx of chakra begins mitotic regeneration.

     The feeling is… nothing like she’s felt before. It’s similar to healing but it’s like someone is healing her, without the pain or nausea that usually accompanies it due to her high sensitivity to chakra. It’s relatively quick too, and she feels the steam that rises as her stomach and the skin around it knits back up. It takes a few seconds before the seal deactivates, and Sakura is left on her hands and knees vomiting the excess blood and bile that seeped into her stomach with the katana wound.

     “Shodaime’s Ballsack,”

     “Oi! That’s my grandfather you’re swearing with.”

     “Shodaime’s Reproductive Organs,”

     “Somehow worse, Sakura, no,”

     Sakura groans as she sits up on her knees. Her stomach feels a little raw, and there’s a conspicuous hole right through her shirt that’s surrounded by blood. But her head feels lighter, much lighter. When she checks her seal there’s still a sizable chunk of chakra left that could let her survive at least 2 more katana wounds of this caliber before needing to switch to her personal reserves to finish healing.

     “How’s your head?” Tsunade asks. She’s cleaned the katana off on some grass, sheathed it and thrown it aside while Sakura was healing herself.

     “Better,”

     “Good, you’ll want to store enough chakra that the seal is full again, but now since you know the limit, make sure you don’t go over it again or I’ll get to stab you again,”

     “Yes, Shishou,”

     “Excellent! Good work Sakura,” Even to hazy Sakura the praise resonates and a smile pulls to her lips. “I’ll give you half an hour before you should be in the Hospital with Shizune. I heard you’re co-leading rounds,”

     As much as Sakura wants to groan and collapse onto the grass and just lay there to process that a minute or so ago her insides had seen the light of day, and she was almost like a donut—she’s co-leading rounds. She’s participated in rounds before with usually Shizune leading or another medic or doctor, but now she’s co-leading with Shizune. _Co-leading_. Shannaro!

     Tsunade turns towards the crowd that had been whispering amongst itself, and apparently missed their cue to leave.

     “Oi! Make sure this gets to Orochimaru and Jiraya, and make sure I’m back in the betting pool! I have a good feeling about this one.” She picks up the katana and waves it around almost threateningly. “Now scram! Back to your posts and missions, or whatever the hell else you’re supposed to be doing, show’s over!”

     There are stragglers in the form of civilian nurses or wandering passerbys, but everyone disappears as soon as Tsunade starts waving the weapon she just impaled her apprentice with.

     Who in the gods’ names is she apprenticed to. She’ll actually die one day under her mentor’s hand. It has to be a given at this point.

* * *

 

     On her actual birthday, she wakes up sort of terrified. Excited, just a little bit because she finally has people around her she converses with on a weekly basis that might know of her birthday to wish her well, but she’s ultimately terrified. She’d promised to meet with Lee and Guy this morning to train, so she fully feels that her trepidation is justified, since the younger of the Green Beasts has already given her too much wildly cheesy and sparkle infused grief about not being there for her special day. She doesn’t know what to expect, but gets dressed and prepares herself, (physically, emotionally) for the worst.

     She meets them at 5am at the usual spot and immediately dodges the green mass hurtling towards her with a _very_ loud “SAKURA-SAAAAAAAN!”

     “Lee-kun, good morning,”

     “Sakura-san! I congratulate you on Blooming through Another Exciting and Training filled Year! You have grown into a Spectacular, Youthful, and Vigorous Kunoichi, and I am Grateful that you have allowed us to witness such a Spectacular Bloom of Youth!” He’s crying. Already.

     “It has been a True Honor Sakura-san! We wish you only More Vigor in the Year to come!” Pipes up Guy.

     “Thank you Lee-kun, Guy-sensei. I appreciate the well wishes,”

     “We have prepared a gift for you! Beautiful Blossom!”

     “You really shouldn’t have!” Sakura says, but they’re already pulling out a gift hastily wrapped in green paper. Of course it’s green.

     “Thank you, you guys, you really didn’t have to go through the trouble!”

     “It was our pleasure Sakura-san! We will train with your gift once you have opened it! And since it is your Birthday, I will do the 100 laps around Konoha on my hands! And if I do not manage that I shall do 500 pushups with you sitting on me with your gift! And if I do not manage that I shall--,”

     “Lee-kun, let’s decide what you do after that, after you fail those other two things,”

     Something she’ll train with today, huh.

     She takes the gift from Lee’s hands and not expecting the weight, buckles a bit before instinct takes over to stabilize herself.

     Of course.

     She pulls away the ribbon and paper and is met with a pair of pale pink ankle weights and arm weights.

     “Lee-kun, Guy-sensei, these are wonderful! Thank you, really, so much!”

     “Put them on Sakura-san! And we shall commence our training!”

     With a grin, she discards the other ankle weights she came in, and replaces them with the others. They’re heavier than those she was wearing before, and grins at the challenge.

     “Let’s go Lee-kun, Guy-sensei. We have 100 laps to do. Lee-kun, on your hands!”

* * *

 

     She’s at the hospital shoving her ankle weights and sweaty work out gear into the cabinet of her small desk in Shizune’s office when her Tsunade and Shizune walk in. That’s usually her cue to hurry the fuck up since rounds are starting and she’s participating. She quickly changes out of the sweatier items and into something that marks her more as a medic-nin of the hospital instead of a walk in, but at this point she’s known well enough by the staff not to make the mistake. Tsunade had (graciously) let her not wear the standard medic-nin uniform, and Sakura was all too glad for it. She’s far from a style queen like Ino, and favors practicality over appearances sake, but even for her tastes the medic-nin uniform is a stretch. The baggy coats, the weird ear muff things, the _berets_ , Inner shudders. She doesn’t have anything against berets, they’re fine, but... no. Ino, when she had seen the uniform and imagined Sakura in it, had begged, on her _knees_ , to—“Never, ever, EVER, put that monstrosity on and wear that beret like they do. I will kill you, chop you up and hide the remains if I EVER, even get a whiSPER of news that you even trIED to put that beret on and wear it like the med-nins. Got it Billboard!? I’ll kill you!”

     Safe to say she’s glad she’s allowed to keep herself away from the clutches of the ugly med-nin uniform. She throws on a pair of scrubs, a short sleeved shirt to replace the long sleeves (hospital protocol that when she scrubs in she’s sterile and the long sleeves don’t fuck anything up), and a very, dark red, almost black sort of apron that makes it easier to see in between patients after she’d just been spattered in blood. She attaches her medicine pouch, leaves her kunai pack and instead slides a good amount of senbon in various places. It’s good to be prepared.

     “Ready Shizune-senpai! Tsunade-shishou!”

     “Good, did you study up last night?”

     “Of course Tsunade-shishou,”

     “Wonderful, I need to be in a council meeting all morning, and Shizune needs to be there as well to help me out. Too much information for me to handle all at once,”

     “Who will be leading rounds? One of the med-nin?”

     “Actually, Sakura-chan, since you did wonderfully co-leading a few days ago… and it _is_ your birthday….”

     Sakura’s heart all about stops.

     “I’ve decided that it’s alright for you to hold down the fort for the morning until lunch. We don’t have any scheduled teams coming in from mission this morning, and while an ANBU team 1 _is_ late, I’ll be glad to be pulled out of the meeting for them. No one has been admitted that’s above your skill level, you’ll be fine.” Says Tsunade.

     It’s decided. She loves these women with her entire heart, especially the gifts they give on her birthday. Leading rounds! Acting attending (for the morning)!

     “Thank you Tsunade-shishou! Shizune-senpai!” And tries to hug the women without tackling them. Tsunade grins and chuckles at the pink haired girl’s enthusiasm and pats her head, and Shizune lets out a similar laugh and hugs the girl back tightly. Ah to be young.

     “That’s not all!” says Shizune when Sakura disengages. “I was sent a new poison from Chiyo-baa-sama in Suna that she thought we in Konoha would enjoy. I’ve stripped all labels, and re-vialed it. My gift to you, in addition to running rounds, is the puzzle of solving it! And then making an antidote and using it at your leisure. Quite similar to what you’ve been doing, but this is one of Chiyo-baa-sama’s work, so I hope you enjoy! The vial is down in the lab, I put a bow on it,”

     Sakura hugs her again and squeezes, as much as she can without feeling bad about crushing the woman who’s become an older sister to her. “Shizune-senpai, I’m going to _cry!_ ”

     “Hehe, well if you don’t cry at Shizune’s gift you better shed a tear at mine,” Says Tsunade and pulls out a jug from one of her sealing arrays.

     “Tsunade-shishou, that’s a jug of sake,”

     “Indeed it is, Sakura, indeed it is. Good stuff too. I am gifting you with your first jug of sake to enjoy—not on call, or when you’re sad, but when you’re happy and celebrating the joys of life,”

     “Thank you, Tsunade-shishou. I’m afraid it won’t make me cry, but I am sincerely, and truly touched that you didn’t drink it already and give me an empty jug,” Sakura says as she accepts the gift from her and gives her another hug to go with the snarky comment.

     “You little--,” Tsunade swings when Sakura pulls away but it’s too wide to be a serious hit and both laugh as she ducks.

     “Thank you, both of you, so much,”

     “Ah, it’s nothing. Now, here’s your coat. Which, I was planning to give you when you were actually promoted, so you have to give it back when we get back after lunch. You’re already required to wear a coat when you’re on call, and I noticed you use the spares down in the lounge, but I can’t have my apprentice wearing a spare, ill-fitting coat when leading rounds at 8 in the morning, so you get to borrow your own coat,”

     Sakura’s cheeks hurt from grinning so much. It’s not even 8 am yet and the day is _good_.

     “Here, we need to go before we miss that meeting. Have fun on rounds!”

     Shizune hands her the folded coat tied with a pink bow, and both women vanish quickly from Shizune’s office.

     With bated breath Sakura pulls the ribbon and when she unfolds the coat has to bounce around and spin away from the coat and let out a few chocked sobs of sincere, and genuine gratitude and emotion that’s finally dragged up and burst itself out.

     When she puts the coat on and looks at herself in the long mirror standing in Shizune’s office for whatever reason. She’s speechless at the perfect fit, and the “Dr. Haruno Sakura” stitched carefully, expertly in red thread.

* * *

     Her time as acting attending and leading rounds goes so smoothly that she’s on the moon when Shizune shows up and relieves her for lunch. While she did get a few confused and slightly questioning glances from the civilian doctors and nurses when she showed up for rounds that morning, she’s proud to say any concern was quickly dispelled. She thinks that some of the medic-nin and chakra wielding nurses present taking things in stride and not questioning the change in leadership helped move things along.

     It was a _glorious_ morning. She spent a couple of hours on rounds and doled out cases to nurses and doctors, checked on a few patients herself and fielded questions from some of the younger students and nurses. She’d healed a couple of walk-ins when things got busy, and had the pride of seeing some of her friends who’d come to visit her on her birthday in her new (not quite hers, but hers in the future) white coat.

     Tenten and Hinata were first to visit her mid-morning, and gifted her with the new romance book they were going to read in their unofficial book club. A year or so back they’d all discovered by accident in a book shop that they all wanted to read the same book. First it was some fantasy epic, then a light slice-of-life, then romance, then another romance. After that then another romance. Sakura predicted that soon they’d move on to Icha-Icha once the run of the mill romance books run out, and then she’ll mention to Kakashi that he can join and they can discuss. They all bought their books themselves, but with the girls buying their next read for her—it’s touching. Sakura doesn’t know how many times she’s said thank you today, or this past week.

     Half an hour or so after the girls visit, Shikamaru, Shino, and Neji show up with their own gift. It was an ornate puzzle, a large collection of intertwined blocks of seemingly random formation that were apparently supposed to eventually compose themselves into an octahedron with a fancy design on the outside. She’d often played various games with them, chess, shogi, variants on cards, riddles, and all sorts of puzzles when she had the time. She’d helped out with research for each of their respective teams, and in the spirit of ongoing friendship, mental stimulation, and intellectual development, they had given her the puzzle. Apparently they had all managed to solve it one way or another, and it was Sakura’s turn to try and beat whatever current record Shikamaru had set. Even if she didn’t beat Shikamaru’s record she could keep the puzzle as her 16th birthday gift. Current rankings were Shikamaru at 2 hours, Shino at 3 and a half, and Neji at 3 and 45 minutes. She has her work cut out for her.

     She’s so grateful to her friends. She loves them all, truly.

* * *

     When she eventually surrenders her coat to Shizune to hide away until her next overnight call shift, it’s time for lunch.

     She’s about to head to the vending machines in the personnel lounge so she can snack on her small pile of granola bars and plastic wrapped sandwiches while she checks out her new poison in the lab, when she sees Kakashi on her way through the main hall. She lights up like a lightbulb at seeing him. He was due back from a mission a few days ago, and he’d come in on time and unscathed but was holed up by miscellaneous ANBU deeds and hadn’t had a chance to check in with her and show her he was alright. She’s been forcing him to visit her when he returns from mission so she can personally check that he’s alright, check his mental state, check his possible wounds, and soothe the nagging thought in her mind that he’s dead in a ditch and torn from her; another precious person gone. She’s never outwardly spoken about this nagging thought and they haven’t addressed the fact that she _needs_ to see that he’s alright, and he in return when she comes back from missions, but it’s become a habit now to check in with each other. She thinks it calms him down somewhat too now, and is glad for it.

     “Kakashi-sensei!”

     “Sakura-chan, I’m here to take you to birthday lunch,”

     “No way Kakashi-sensei, _you_ , actually treating me to lunch?”

     “Ah, probably not, you might end up paying if I forgot my wallet,”

     Sakura laughs, and they exit the hospital.

     “Where are you taking me?”

     “Ah, not too far, just the benches over there. Paying at a restaurant is too expensive, I bought food from that convenience store over there,”

     Sakura shakes her head in fond exasperation. “Of course you did Kakashi-sensei, but still, thank you for spending money on me even though I _know_ , you have a small fortune in your bank account,”

     “I always regret asking you to pull money for me that one time. I should have never given you my card,”

     “I didn’t even buy anything too expensive. Barely made a dent. How _is_ that new carpet holding up?”

     “I threw it away,”

     “Sure you did Kaka-sensei, I’m sure it’s not laying perfectly fine, well cared for, and vacuumed while the rest of your apartment is in almost actual bare shambles,”

     “Speak for yourself Sakura-chan, at least I have a rug,”

     “You cannot pull that around!”

     She sits down on the bench and sees the neatly wrapped homemade lunch. Convenience store her ass.

     There isn’t much variation, but she can hardly expect it from a bachelor surviving on soldier pills and ration bars most of his life. There are a good number of rice balls, some fried eggplant, and a cut up bell pepper. Sakura takes one of the onigiri and gets a mouthful of pickled plum with her rice.

     “Kakashi-sensei! You made these with my favorite filling!”

     “I bought them Sakura-chan,”

     “Sure, sure. Thank you Kakashi-sensei!”

     They focus on eating and then sit content on the benches. Kakashi lets Pakkun and Bisuke out to give their well wishes, and pass those from the others along as well. She gives them the head scratches they deserve for being wonderful, pure dogs and gives them a generous amount of treats she sneaked from Kakashi’s pockets before he called them up. When she has 5 minutes left on her break Kakashi turns towards her with a meaningful look.

     “Ready?”

     “Always, Kaka-sensei,”

     His fingers are slow enough for her to catch but fast enough that no one can accurately oversee.

     “It’s a Water Jutsu, manipulates water into senbon. You’ll need a jolt of chakra to the Dragon Sign to send them off. The more chakra you jolt into it, the faster they’ll fly, and the harder they’ll impact. Watch,”

     He pours some water from the canteen into the portable cup, and executes the signs just slow enough that she can see them once again. She senses the jolt of his chakra on the appropriate sign and watches as the formed water senbon fly off into the tree. As soon as he lets go of the last dragon sign the water loses its senbon shape and leaves a collection of wet holes in the trunk.

     “Thank you, Kaka-sensei,”

     “I have a mission in a few days that will take me out for about two weeks. When I get back we can practice applying it,”

     “Of course. Stay safe on your mission,”

     “Always try to be,”

     Sakura scoffs good-naturedly.

     “I have to get back to the Hospital, Kakashi-sensei. Thank you for lunch, and thank you for the gift. I’m glad you stopped by.”

     “How could I miss my favorite student’s birthday?”

     “Favorite only because I water Mr. Ukki when you’re gone,”

     “Eh. You also heal me when I come back from missions and spare me the hassle of going to the hospital,”

     “I’m only enabling you. I gotta stop,” She says as she helps pack up. “How was the last mission by the way? Any injuries? How are you?”

     “Only got a scratch when I got caught up in a bramble thicket, but otherwise all good,”

     Sakura shakes her head. “I’m glad I don’t have to worry about the actual ANBU mission and instead the inane way you manage to get hurt by crawling through some bushes,”

     She checks him over with chakra anyway.

     When Sakura straightens he walks her back to the doors and there they part ways.

     “Have a safe mission, Kaka-sensei!”

     “Congratulations on Creation Rebirth, Sakura-chan, and Happy Birthday,”

* * *

 

     It’s a _good_ day, made even better by Chouji and Kiba and Akamaru stopping by the hospital in the afternoon to hand her a collection of free meal gift certificates and coupons to various restaurants around town.

     “Figured that you worked so much you don’t have time to eat out properly. Maybe free food is enough incentive,”

     “Thank you guys, I’ll treat you guys with these if you come back next mission unscathed,”

     “Aw Sakura, you know that happens once in a blue moon!”

     “All the more reason too. Maybe free food is enough incentive,” She parrots.

     Both boys and dog groan.

* * *

 

     After her hospital shift ends midafternoon, she meets Anko for a spar. It’s a biweekly tradition now after the woman had agreed to help Sakura develop her offensive medical chakra. After talking with Tsunade that one mental break 3 years ago, and talking with Mikoto about family and precious people—she doesn’t mind using offensive medical chakra if it’s to protect those she loves, and her village. There’s a limit to how far she’s willing to take to developing it, especially since its development is directly correlated with how much she’s willing to hurt--and Anko to be hurt—in a single sparring session. She hasn’t tried anything with the heart or brain, but Anko has been gracious enough to allow Sakura to paralyze several limbs, remove feeling from them, cause various degrees of nausea and diarrhea—things she can fix pretty easily. Of course in return, Anko beats her around, quite furiously too after the diarrhea stunt, but it’s all in the name of good-natured fun Sakura assures Shizune as she’s stitched back together. However Anko has been with her since that very first moment where her life started spiraling down, and had been there as a punching bag she can bounce off of (even though it was less Sakura punching and more Sakura being punched), and there’s a limit as to how far Sakura wants to take to developing her burgeoning weaponized medical chakra on a precious person. (There are things that she knows she can cause but isn’t sure if they’re so easy to reverse.)

     Her spars with Anko have been getting more even over the years. She still loses more spars than she wins, but she can tell that she gives Anko a bit of a strain after they end up bone dead tired and bruised beyond belief at the end. It’s satisfying to see how far she’s grown from being knocked out 30 seconds in, to giving Anko hell for 15 minutes before being absolutely eliminated.

     “Ah Pinky, got you a gift,”

     “What?”

     “For your birthday, little birdie told me someone’s 16,”

     “Anko-senpai you shouldn’t have,”

     “You call me Anko-senpai, at this point I _have_ to,”

     Sakura laughs and sits up. Anko didn’t bother wrapping the gift, and Sakura takes it with interest. It’s three bottles of a curious nail polish, one red, one pale purple, and one black.

     “Nail Polish?”

     “Diamond infused and chakra activated,”

     At Sakura’s look of confusion she elaborates.

     “I wear this stuff and it’s virtually indestructible. You paint your nails, and the stuff is as I said, diamond infused, so when it’s hardened it doesn’t chip, it makes your nails stronger, it’s also easier to claw someone’s eyes out or scratch people. Things of that sort. Once you paint it on, you activate the stuff with chakra as it’s drying, and when it’s hard it’s good to go. To take it off you have to activate your chakra over the polish and then use acetone to get it off. I love the stuff, adds an extra weapon if I’m out and in close quarters,”

     “Thank you Anko-senpai, this is amazing!”

     “Ah, don’t mention it kiddo. Happy birthday.”

* * *

 

     When she gets home after treating Anko to dango (it might be her birthday but she sometimes puts that woman through hell in developing her techniques; she deserves dango), Ino is waiting at her door with a giant bag.

     “Finally! You’re home! And you’re all sweaty and dirty, jeez Sakura, I thought you’d at least put some effort into your appearance on your birthday evening before I got here!”

     “Oh shut up Ino-pig, I haven’t been home since 5am,”

     “Still, Billboard Brow! How are you going to get a man with you walking around sweaty and dirty and like you’ve single handedly caused the destruction of a village?”

     “I was just sparring with Anko-senpai,”

     “Explains it, but doesn’t excuse it. Go shower, right now, while I set up dinner. I still can’t believe you decided you didn’t want to go out for your _birthday_.”

     Sakura shakes her head and smiles. She’s already opened the door to her apartment and Ino shoots inside to set everything up. Sakura knows that the longer she takes the more pleased Ino will be with how she decorates her living room and sets out everything they’ll be doing, so Sakura makes it her goal to shower as quickly as humanly possible.

     She fails. The shower is so nice, so warm, and after a day of such excitement and socialization, it’s too easy to let herself relax under the warm spray and feel the weight of exhaustion settle over her.

     When she eventually gets out and puts a modicum of effort into styling her hair so that Ino won’t berate her for it, she enters her room with the place tidied, her bed made, and an outfit on her bed.

     It’s not as bad as she expected it to be, but they are staying at home and watching movies, pigging out on take out and ice cream and talking until they both pass out on her floor. It’s a rarely used pair of sweatpants, and a loose shirt that’s obviously new, since she’s sure she’s never owned a shirt that said “Ino’s Bitch,” on it before. Gods why is Ino like this.

     When she gets dressed and emerges to her living room, the place is, modestly decorated. Huh, she didn’t expect that. With her past two birthdays having been spent outside of the village, she’d denied Ino the almost insane pleasure of planning her parties. She’d been expecting nothing less than a Spring Festival based in her tiny living room, street vendors, jugglers, lanterns and all. However she’s pleased to note that there are only a few streamers loosely taped to her couch, and only one packet of tiny glitter stars spread on her table. There are a few balloons, loosely spread around their main area of interest—the couch, the tv, her coffee table/desk—and a few scented candles with their flames dancing merrily between the plates and take out boxes. There’s a small collection of expertly wrapped gifts in paper decorated in pigs (an ongoing joke) and red ribbon, a collection of movies, a mountain of skin care products, and two packs of Sakura’s favorite ice cream with Akimichi preservation seals on them.

     “Tada! This is almost disgustingly tame Billboard Brow. I was so disappointed in myself I went ahead and cleaned your room too. Next year we’re having an actual party,”

     “This is wonderful, and perfect Ino. Thank you,”

     Ino sniffs, but Sakura can see that she’s happy as well.

     “At least you had the courtesy to write ‘Sakura’s Bitch’ on yours, and not just ‘Ino’,”

     Ino is wearing her own pair of sweatpants and a matching shirt to Sakura’s ‘Ino’s Bitch’.

     “I’m mean but I’m not _that_ mean. I’m still a good friend, and we are each other’s mutual bitches,”

     Sakura laughs at that, full bodied, and with aching cheeks, eventually siting down on her floor at the table to open a box of takeout.

     “Come on Ino-pig, let’s eat,”

 

     She opens Ino’s pig wrapping paper wrapped gifts shortly after dinner. The first was a red mesh shirt from one of the southern countries that Ino had sent to her (which Sakura absolutely loved—in Konoha the most common mesh color was black or brown, which was practical for the surrounding areas, but Sakura did love red, and mesh _was_ growing on her to the point where such a gift only fueled the growing fire. Maybe she _could_ wear red mesh in village and switch to black and brown for missions? Hm. Decisions, decisions.). The other gifts in the pile were more gag gifts than actual usable items, but that’s how their friendship worked. In addition to the shirt Ino had given her a few handmade coupons to get information from her extensive ~~gossip~~ information network not pertaining directly to herself (since any and all gossip Ino hears about Sakura is told to her because she _is_ her best friend), a beauty magazine, which upon flipping through it, Sakura had noticed that Ino had marked in thick purple sparkly marker what tips Sakura should take note of, ranging from hair styling, to make up items, to sex tips, to clothing items she _might_ look good in. Sakura had thrown the magazine at Ino’s head.

     The next gift she opens is a pack of condoms “ribbed for her pleasure”, and Sakura chucks those with a furious blush at Ino too. They hit the target that time and Ino has to ice the spot on her cheek with her melting tub of ice cream as she laughs.

     “It’s a totally natural part of life, and as long as you’re doing it safely there’s no need to be embarrassed about it!”

     “Don’t try to act like a sexpert if you lost your virginity two weeks ago, Ino-pig!”

     “Oh ho ho, Sakura, a lot can happen in two weeks!”

     “Ino!” Sakura growls, and waves a spoon menacingly at her. It’s hard to look menacing with a permanent blush and a facemask plastered to her face.

 

     It’s the evening on her 16th birthday when Ino tells her she’s going to end up a spinster.

     “You know Ino, that’s a really nice thing to tell someone on their birthday,” Sakura says sardonically while licking her spoon. They’ve moved on to a quiet romcom playing in the background and generally unwatched as they sit and test out Sakura’s new polish from Anko and talk. She’d settled on the red and Ino on the purple.

     “I’ve decided to help you make sure that doesn’t happen,” Ino says, setting her own ice cream on the floor beside her. “I have gone ahead and set up a date for you tomorrow, 7pm at that new homestyle restaurant near the market,”

     Sakura chokes on the chocolate chunk in her ice cream. “You set me up on a _date?_ ”

     “Yes! I’m being a good friend! I want you to get out there and out of that hospital and to stop training so hard! Literally the only thing you do, day in day out, is train, work, and then _maybe_ , visit the Uchiha Compound or visit some of us. Then of course I force you to go out every now and again, but that’s been 3 years of your life! You _need_ a change of pace. What better way to do that than get a boyfriend and have some fun!”

     Sakura who has by that point more or less recovered, looks horrified. “Ino…”

     The blonde girl in question grins, her teeth, straight, sharp, and blinding white. Absolutely menacing.

     Sakura sits up. “Ino, _no,_ ”

     “Ino, _yes,_ ”

     “Ino, please, really, I’m no fun on any romantic level I swear. I’ll just waste this guy’s time and energy,”

     “No you won’t! You’re a _gem_ , to be around, especially with alcohol in you,”

     “Ino I’m too busy to date! I have shifts at the hospital, training commitments with Lee, Kakashi-sensei, Anko-senpai, Tsunade-shishou, plus missions! I can’t pull a boyfriend into that mix!”

     “He’s _super_ sweet Sakura, I know you’ll love him and he’ll be a great first. He’s a civilian, works at his family’s bakery, and has eyes to _die_ for!”

     “He’s not a ninja?”

     Ino shakes her head. “No, I know how you are with those in your circle. How really fucking possessive and controlling you are when we’re reckless or hurt or something. I decided I’d help your first man dodge that bullet by being the safest thing in the village, a teenager managing his family bakery. Good call right!”

     Sakura sighs, but will ultimately do whatever makes Ino happy, that’s who she is now apparently. “Ino I don’t know, I’m honestly too busy!”

     “There’s always time for love!” Ino exclaims.

     “You sounded like Lee there for a moment.” Sakura says in hope that it changes the subject. Ino shudders in revulsion as she reevaluates her choice of sappy, almost Lee-like wording, but ultimately it doesn’t faze her as much as Sakura hoped.

     “You need to cut back on your hospital shifts! And stop training like a maniac. You’re not going into ANBU, yet you train with the intensity as if the exams are in a week.”

     “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared for any situation, Ino, any down time and muscles begin to atrophy. Also, I take rest days!”

     “Yeah but on them you work at the hospital in that windowless lab most of the time or sit and study in the library for _ages_. You’re so pale it’d look sickly if you were less pretty,”

     Sakura gasped and brought her hand to her chest in mock horror. “What is this?! Ino? Resident Bitch and certified gossip monger calling me, Billboard brow, pretty?!” Sakura brings healing chakra to her palms and makes her way towards Ino, “Are you ok? Are you sure you’re not sick or something? Let me check you out,”

     As Sakura approaches Ino tries to swat her away. “I’m not sick, gods I can’t even compliment my best friend without her getting concerned. No! Get away! I’m not in the hospital or even sick! Stop trying to heal me!!!”

     The pink haired chuunin had been inching closer and closer until she had pinned her blonde friend so she can smother her friend in green chakra. Maybe she heals a few pimples she senses, but no one will know if it’s Sakura or Ino’s impressive skin care regime (Sakura won’t ever tell either). She’s eventually knocked off of Ino and goes sprawling onto the hardwood floor of her own living room, but it’s worth the laugh Ino gives in return.

     “Alright! Alright! Enough!” Sakura says, as she sits back up, and tries to get Ino to stop giggling.

     When she quiets, Sakura falls back onto her floor with a sigh. “A date, huh?”

     “You’re _first date_ , ever! I’ll come over to help you get dolled up!” Ino says, clasping her hands together, but at seeing Sakura’s eyebrows furrow, she tries again.

     “Sakura, I know this boy myself, he’s really nice, and really looking forward to meeting you. He’s not one to hold grudges so if you decide that it isn’t working out you can just tell him and leave. I’m not forcing you to go, but I would really like it if you did and made your life a bit more exciting.”

     “It _is_ exciting!”

     “Sweetie your personal life is nonexistent,”

     “Sweetie your work life is nonexistent,”

     Ino gasps, but knows better than to actually take Sakura’s words to heart. “I’ll have you know Ibiki-sensei and Anko-senpai are _most_ pleased with my work at TI,”

     “Hn.”

     “I’m not trying to force you out there into the dating pool, but just dip your toe in. Try it out, and if it’s not for you, then you can adopt several cats, get an apartment directly next to the hospital and live there for the rest of your life without anyone to interfere,”

     “Ino I already know casual dating won’t be a thing for me. Like you said once, I have too much baggage for casual relationships,”

     “While that may be true, I also may be wrong. Maybe you’ll take to casual relationships like a fish to water,”

     “I don’t know, Ino,”

     “Please, for me?”

     Sakura sighs. Ino’s a precious person, and ultimately she’ll do anything for them. All they have to do is ask.

     “Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xx i love sakura, she's so great, and deserves the world  
> whatadaya think???


	11. a bloom, sweet and innocent and prickly as a horned rose, entwines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lOOK AT ME, DOUBLE UPDATE, hi, yes,   
> here we get back to our story, now, with itachi taking part, and other characters,  
> fun facts: i've had some of these starting from here on out written since last june, and i think the earliest scene i wrote for this fic without knowing it was for this fic was in may of 2017,  
> ENJOY were getting into some plOT

     “You have _got_ to be kidding me,”

     It’s the evening of Sakura’s blind date, and Sakura has just emerged out of the shower that Ino forced her in. Ino had taken some liberties.

     Spread on her bed is an outfit. Along with it a new set of underwear, with way more lace on the bra and panties than she’s ever been used to—it reminds her more of the lingerie she’d accidentally found in her mother’s closet when she was younger than something she thinks she can wear.

     “Ino!?” She calls, still wrapped in a towel and not taking her eyes off the items in front of her.

     “Yeah? You need help getting it on?” Ino peeks her blonde head through the doorway.

     “Ino what the _hell_ is this?”

     “It’s underwear, the stuff you put on under your clothes to protect and support your womanly delicates,”

     “Cut the cutesy, Ino. This is _way_ overboard on a first date. I’m not going to sleep with him!”

     “So? They’re not for him, they’re for you! It’s the confidence that makes the woman! That means putting you in lingerie that barely qualifies as fancy so you feel like a confident, bad ass woman,”

     Sakura tears her eyes from the black and red set to her best friend, but can’t find a response.

     “Come on! Get dressed! I have some coffee waiting for you to gulp down before you leave because I know you’re addicted. If you need help with the zipper, call me in!”

     Sakura watches her best friend leave and with a resigned sigh, puts on her new lingerie that’s not lingerie in Ino’s dictionary.

     When she looks at herself in the mirror it’s, nice? The actual material and design of the garments is undeniably expert, meticulous, and beautiful, and there’s a shadow of a confident woman that Sakura might one day become, but right now, she feels more like a newborn deer in a costume way too large even though Ino has always had the knack for knowing Sakura’s exact sizes.

     She turns back towards the bed and puts on the stockings, clipping them in place so they don’t slide down her thighs. Heels next, a black strappy sort of monstrosity that takes Sakura a good several minutes to figure out and get on her feet but when she does, they’re not half bad. She gets a glance at herself in the mirror, lingerie, stockings, heels, and calls out.

     “I look like a whore!”

     “Don’t knock it ‘till you try it!”

     Sakura shakes her head and turns back towards the last item spread out on her bed.

     “The dress is 3 sizes too small, where did you get it? The children’s section?”

     “With your bust I considered. Just put the dress on, it’s supposed to stretch,”

     Sakura blanches, but does as instructed. She manages just fine with the zipper (thanking Anko for forcing her to be more flexible), and when she looks at herself in the mirror, thinks that she doesn’t look half bad.

     Sure the dress isn’t something she would usually wear, but she likes the boat neckline and the long sleeves, and the dark red color. The dress isn’t too short, falling at a professional several inches above the knee. It’s all in all, a good dress, even if it does hug her _quite_ snuggly. She wishes she could wear her flak jacket.

     “Alright Ino-pig I’m done, what’s next on your list of things to torture me with?” Sakura asks when she exits out of her room and into the living room where Ino had set out Sakura’s measly make-up and hair set, and supplied a multitude of items from her own.

     “Ah! Who knew you had it in you to look nice, maybe if you did this more often you’d have gotten a boyfriend sooner,”

     “Shut it, Ino-pig, I can tell already that I’m going to be glad to get out of this get up when I get home later tonight,”

     Ino cackles, and sits Sakura down on her floor next to the table.

     “Now, go ahead and do your thing, and if you fuck up I’ll fix it for you,” Ino says, critically watching as Sakura uses the bare minimum and ends her used once in a blue moon make up routine with a swatch of chapstick. Make-up isn’t her strong suit; she doesn’t need it most of the time, and if she does wear it, it sweats off before lunch time with how often she trains. For some kunoichi, it’s a vital part of their image and repertoire, like Kurenai, and Ino a bit, but Sakura doesn’t go on many kunoichi specific missions with her build, so bothers with neither weaponized make up or plain civilian brand make up. The shinobi make up high quality stuff, expensive too, but she doesn’t really need completely sweat proof eyeshadows and foundations or poisoned lipstick.

     “That just won’t do. You need _red_ lipstick, not just some chapstick! And eyeliner, and actual eyeshadow instead of _just_ mascara that you did just now! And your eyebrows!”

     “What’s wrong with my eyebrows?” Sakura asks defensively. She might not be the prettiest gal out there, but as she’s gotten older and other things have gained importance in her life, being the epitome of beauty and grace is less important than being the epitome of strength and intelligence.

     “You didn’t do anything to them!”

     “Was I supposed to?”

     “UGH!”

     Ino takes Sakura’s face and 15 minutes later, dazed Sakura looks back into a mirror and barely recognizes herself. It’s a bit disconcerting, but it’s for Ino, and she’d promised not to complain too much.

     “Huh, I’m a completely different person,”

     “Damn right, give me your head, I’m going to style your hair because if we haven’t figured out with the makeup, you’re hopeless,”

     As Ino fiddles with the hot styling tools and brushes out Sakura’s drying hair, she examines her almost new face in the mirror. The darker eyeliner and smoked out eyeshadow made her green eyes bigger, almost brighter, and the red lipstick was an almost exact match to the color of her dress, tying in the whole outfit together. Ino had also defined (?) her brows and they look fuller, even though they are pink.

     “What am I doing?” There’s a sliver of unease. She feels too far from herself like this, can barely recognize herself like this. She feels, exposed, like she might draw eyes, red on red on pink on heels on lingerie. She’s supposed to blend into the crowd, not stand out, and all her efforts of blending in (as much as she can with pink hair), are being unwound.

     “You, are getting dressed up like a bombshell and going on a date to make a boy lose his mind, and when you get done in a few hours you’re going to come home and study until your eyes pop off,”

     Sakura grimaces. How is she supposed to make a boy lose his mind? She understands genjutsu, and what might drive someone insane, but making someone lose their mind through a physical aspect? She’s a kunoichi but she’s not a Kunoichi—the ones who actively use their own bodies as weapons and are the epitome of a dagger slipped between ribs and sealed with a kiss.

     It’s too late now to back out though. Her date is waiting at the restaurant, and she promised Ino, and she’ll do anything for Ino.

     The girl only curls her hair, and styles her bangs in a way where they don’t fall uncomfortably into her face, and leaves everything else as is.

     “Finished! Now, you’re almost late, and to make sure you don’t get lost or ditch, I will personally be walking you there. Don’t worry about my stuff, I’ll come pick it up and leave the key in the ficus,”

     Sakura allows to Ino push her out the door.

     “I feel like a doll,” She says while she and Ino walk onto the street.

     “You look like a doll. I’m very proud,”

     “What’s even his name?”

     “Ono Takeshi. He’s 17, just a bit taller than you, light hair, and will be wearing a red chrysanthemum when you meet him,”

     “He’s not a ninja,”

     “He’s not a ninja,” Ino confirms again. “All you have to worry about is your own schedule, and he seems enthusiastic enough to work around you instead of you around him.”

     “What’s he like?”

     “Ah, nope. You’ll have to go on the date to learn that information,”

     Sakura rolls her eyes, but she’s nervous. She feels a nervous flutter in her stomach. Enthusiastic to meet her? What wild tales did Ino spin about her?

     “Here we are! Remember, red chrysanthemum, light hair, around your height. If you want to leave, leave, but give him at least an hour of your time. Ok?”

     “Sure, Ino-pig, sure,”

* * *

     Sakura finds her date much quicker than she thought she would. No drama, or hassle, or awkward standing near the entrance furiously scanning the assembled people for someone who matches the description of half of the male population in the room. It’s easy, he’s the only one sitting alone at a table, in a suit just a bit too big for him with a red chrysanthemum in the pocket, anxiously rubbing his thighs and looking around. He runs a hand nervously through his hair for the third time from the 30 seconds since she’s spotted him.

     He looks anxious—is he anxious to meet her?

     That’s… flattering.

 _Really_ flattering that someone is _this_ anxious and worried about first impressions because he might want to spend time with her. With _her_. A baggage filled mess with abandonment issues. Yikes. Ino told her not to mention that on the first date. Right. Deep breaths. You can leave if you don’t want to be here. He looks so hopeful??? And innocent?? She doesn’t want to disappoint him.

     “Hello, you must be Takeshi-san right?”

     Sakura walks over to the table and stretches out her hand. He takes it, and makes a gesture to try and kiss it, but aborts a second in for a handshake. His hand is hot and a bit sweaty, no callouses, a civilian hand. She can see the blush in his cheeks. (He’s really nervous, Outer, this is so weird).

     “Ah, yes, Sakura-san. Is that alright? If I call you Sakura-san?”

     “Sakura-san is perfectly fine,”

     “We’ve met before, you see. Around two months ago? At the hospital?”

     She sits down at her side of the table, and takes a sip of the water provided. He does the same, but fiddles with his glass in a way that makes her worried a bit that he’ll spill it.

     “Have we? I’m so sorry, I must’ve forgotten!” Sakura says, and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

     “Ah, it’s alright Sakura-san, I’m sure you heal a lot of patients, it’s totally fine if you didn’t remember me,”

     “Well it’s nice to meet you again then Takeshi-san,”

     She sees his ears darken as he stutters out “It’s—really nice to meet you again too,”

     Huh.

      

     Dinner is… nice. Not as tortuous as she thought it would be and Takeshi is… He’s sweet. He makes her laugh a few times, and the chatter she’d at first attributed to nervousness continues throughout dinner. He’s bright, and sweet, and ultimately very, very pure. He’s polite, and just as Ino had described him, a nice safe boy to have a few firsts with. He’s not the smartest, and she doesn’t really want to reveal any of her baggage because it just seems like he wouldn’t look at her the same way again but… He’s oddly, in awe? And that makes Sakura feel like blushing because she barely knows this boy and he’s acting like she’s some Daimyo’s daughter in a far off court. Maybe for a bit, she’ll be willing to take Ino’s advice and maybe, just maybe for a short, possible moment, relax.

     Of course the moment after she thinks that half way through their meal, he gets a panicked look in his eye as he looks over her shoulder. When she turns around in confusion (did he somehow read her mind?), she sees an ANBU operative, relaxes, and then tenses up again.

     “Haruno Sakura, with Shizune and the Hokage currently occupied you are needed immediately at the Hospital,”

     She’s not surprised. Shizune and Tsunade had informed her that they were building a case against one of the rowdier council elders, who had been causing an inordinate amount of trouble the past several decades and were presenting it today. The meeting must have gotten out of hand since they’ve been at it since early afternoon. They couldn’t tell her a name, but that she knows who he is and if ever approached by someone from Root she is to run to the hills.

     The women had told her that she was informally on call tonight, and now that she’s practically promoted, she will always be informally on call in emergencies. It’s her job now as Tsunade’s apprentice to respond if there’s something the overnight attending or the medic-nin on call can’t handle. (Tsunade is almost completely done with being woken in the middle of the night. She’s training an apprentice for a _reason._ )

     Apparently they can’t handle it today. That thought alone is both thrilling and terrifying.

     “I’m so sorry Takeshi-san, I must go. Thank you for this wonderful evening,” She makes the move for her wallet to pay for the meal since she’s leaving so abruptly, but he stops her.

     “It’s perfectly fine Sakura-san! I can cover!”

     “Are you sure?”

     “Haruno-san,” Says the operative, and Sakura immediately straightens.

     “Thank you again, Takeshi-san,”

     And leaves as quickly as she can to the hospital.

* * *

     Once she gets there it’s deceptively normal. The emergency room is empty, but she can see some of the nurses and the late admits to the ER are a bit frazzled. They must already be in one of the ORs. There’s a nurse waiting for her, one of the younger ones, Haruhi, she remembers. A nice, rather mousey girl with her brown hair in a ponytail and a pair of big red glasses perched on her nose.

     “Do you have charts ready?”

     “They’re only partially filled, but 3 ANBU members of Team 1 came in with severe poisoning, several shattered limbs, and something else severe that we can’t recognize or fix. The main attending tonight was Tsume-san, but he doesn’t know how to handle everything, especially the unknown injury,”

     They’re already rushing down the steps to the basement where the ORs are held, and Sakura’s typing up her hair with a spare tie, and bunching her skin tight sleeves up to her elbows so she can at least remain sort of sterile.

     Shattered bones, easy to take care of, she’ll give that to Tsume-san and a few on his team, at least two per ANBU member, with a nurse for each group to fix the shattered bones back into place. Casting will be done later when they’re stabilized. Poison… Depends where they came from. It could be an easy fix or she’ll have to induce them into a coma to slow down the workings and figure out an antidote if she or Shizune don’t have one already made. However the unknown severe _thing_ that Haruhi has so aptly named… That could pose a problem, especially if Tsume-san couldn’t figure it out. Sakura feels the hints of trepidation but shoves them aside brutally and finally. If she’s nervous, the others will be nervous, and people will suffer unnecessarily. She’s studied, she’s been in these situations with Shizune and Tsunade and with their supervision had conducted similar ANBU surgeries.

     The Sakura in the hospital is a character of her own—she has to be. She’s 16, still technically a child by civilian terms, and if judged by those terms should still be studying in some public school, shouldn’t even be qualified enough to apply to a medical school, let alone practicing. However she’s also a ninja, and apprenticed to the most brilliant doctor in history, and thus while her peers are peering hesitantly over biology books and giggling at anatomy diagrams, she’s there in the hospital breathing life into dead men. Any inexperienced girl in her easily flattered by the sincere attention of a boy just a bit older than her has to be immediately mushed deep, deep down because in her case age is not an excuse anymore. She’s responsible for these people, and she’ll be damned if she fucks everything up because she lets her emotions and someone’s perceived notions of her and what she should be doing get the best of her. She’s bled for this chance, to be important in some setting, and almost died for it. She _belongs_ here, and there’s _nothing_ , anyone can do to convince her otherwise.

     “Available mission details?” She’s still wearing her heels, but there’s no time to chuck them or even go up to her office and change.

     “3 man ANBU team sent for reconnaissance in the Land of Sound. Actual mission objective is unknown,”

     Sound huh. Sakura thinks while they make their way down the hallway to the largest OR. The light is blinking and there are people at the door. Poison and Land of Sound reminds her too much of Sasuke and Orochimaru and their Snake summons—snake summons she has antidotes to.

     “What is she doing here?” Calls out a voice and a hand roughly pushes Sakura’s shoulder back when she attempts to slide past to enter the OR. Sakura is knocked out of her thoughts on the snakes that Orochimaru or Sasuke might have used to deal with the burgeoning situation.

     “I’ve been called in, let me through Izumi-san,”

     “Like hell you were! Itachi-sama is in there! I’m not letting some 16 year old prick in a slinky dress go in and mess things up!”

     “Izumi-san please be reasonable. Your ‘Itachi-sama’ is in critical condition, and so are the other members of his team. Let me through to do. My. Job.” There’s no time for this fangirl bullshit. She’s in the hospital, three steps from the OR and trying to do her job that she’s poured her life into. It’s her turn to save and help people.

     She’s ready to forcefully move the older girl out of the way, but hesitates. Izumi has been antagonistic most of the time when Sakura has been civil. She doesn’t want to add fuel to the fire, no matter how justifiable the act of pushing the girl out of the way is. She begins to fully understand Mikoto’s sentiment; she wouldn’t invite this girl over for dinner either.

     “Haruno-san was called in a few minutes prior. Uchiha-san, step down,” Says the ANBU operative that Sakura recognizes was the one who pulled her away. She gives them a nod and pushes her way past through the doors and into the OR. Let Izumi be mad at an ANBU operative instead of the person called in to save ‘Itachi-sama’. She doesn’t need that bullshit. Not right now.

     There she’s scrubbed in by a nurse. She washes her hands, and her dress is hiked to her hips so the scrub pants can fit over. The shirt goes on next and then the thin chakra conducive gloves. A hat is placed to cover her hair, and a mask over her face, and she all but bursts into the actual Operating Room.

     “Who’s the closest to dying?”

     “Here! We can only keep him stable for 15 minutes!”

     “And the others? How long do I have?”

     “We can keep the captain for 40,”

     “We got this one for 60,”

     “Tsume-san, what of the third diagnoses you can’t reach? Has there been a breakthrough?”

     “No Haruno-sama, I can only ascertain that it’s something with the brachial plexus, but I can’t tell which nerve or nerves exactly,” He’s at the one with 40 minutes stable.

     “Alright, I’ll give 15 a few more minutes and move to 40. Keep them stable until I get around,”

 

     “What are we working with for 15?”

     “Poisoning, very severe, he’s having difficulty breathing, vomiting, even though we’ve sedated him, swelling around the open wounds and arrhythmia,”

     “Blood?”

     “What we’ve drawn is coagulating quickly. I’ve been testing for each poison but I haven’t had much luck,”

     “It’s snake venom, of what sort I don’t yet know, but looking at his condition it’s one of the more poisonous ones. Down in the lab as a box labeled ‘Asshole Venom’, bring it up, start testing from most severe to least,”

     “Yes Haruno-sama,”

     “The rest of you, while Emi-san does the venom tests, we’ll keep him down low and heal from outside in. Ready?”

     “Yes Haruno-sama,”

     “Begin,”

     The venom is found out to be a concoction of all sorts, and is supported by the different sized bite marks. The antidotes are handy, and administered. The team around her focuses on stabilizing him to the best of their ability, while Sakura with her chakra control, keeps the operative’s heart beating, and blood from coagulating from the venom into deep vein thrombosis, and causing an ischemic stroke. It’s difficult, way more difficult without Shizune to help her essentially filter the blood and separate the chunks coagulating enough for oxygen to get through, but she holds on for the sake of the team healing the symptoms. Only when she feels confident that the blood passing through her chakra filter, and helping out the more stubborn clots is almost useless, does she pull back. They only have to reconstruct the shattered bones in his arm and heal the internal hemorrhaging she noticed. They’ll be fine while she steals more time from death for the others.

     “I’ll be back for him. How’s 40 doing?” She’s already moved onto the table nearby.

     “I still can’t figure out what nerve is being targeted! My chakra vision isn’t narrow enough!”

     “I’ll take over then. What else does he have?”

     “Multiple lacerations and deep cuts, almost surgical in nature, the weird nerve thing, but neither of his arms are responsive. There’s some hemorrhaging from other battle wounds, and some nerve damage, pinched nerves in his legs.”

     “You have finer chakra control than most, fix the pinched nerves while the others fix the hemorrhaging and other damage. After you fix his legs, go to 60 and start repositioning bone and doing damage control for me,”

     “Ready?” She asks, glancing at her team for the ANBU captain, already positioning her hands over the unresponsive body.

     “Yes, Haruno-sama,”

     “Begin,”

 

     Weird brachial plexus thing. When she streams minute threads of chakra through each nerve, mentally whispering each to herself as she passes through them (Ulnar, Medial, Inferior to first—)… the connection from the inferior to the root T1 is cut.

     Not torn, but _cut_ , expertly, with no outside wound. She goes back and follows the nerve again but this time to C8. It’s cut as well. A different path, same side, (Radial, Posterior, Middle) to root C7. Cut. Checks the other branching nerves for damage and finds none. The root nerves, emerging from each vertebrae, C6, C5, they’re all cut. She checks over to the other side and finds the same. What Tsume was looking for was a pinch, and since the cuts are right at the base of the vertebrae it was easy to overlook. Shit fixing that though.

     “I have to go in. The roots on the brachial plexus of each side are cut. I’ll have to reattach them,”

     “Do you need help reattaching?”

     More chakra other than her own and Itachi’s while she’s trying to help him regain use of his limbs, not a good idea.

     “Keep the others stable. I’ll need time for this one,”

 

     While she’s deep into Itachi’s neck, she can’t help but wonder who the hell was smart and advanced in medical chakra to make a cut like that. But the question answers itself immediately. It had to have been Kabuto. The team must have been ambushed with sheer numbers, and then when they were worn out attacked with the main event. The one poisoned must have gotten Orochimaru by chance, Itachi Kabuto, and most likely couldn’t disengage to get to Orochimaru. The other one on her third table with the number of crushed bones, probably fell way to Manda if he happened to be summoned. If Sasuke was there, she couldn’t tell. The fucking bastard, going off with traitors.

     It takes a _long_ time for her to reattach the 10 nerves. But they are _vital_ nerves, and if she doesn’t do it right or well enough the man under her won’t be able to pick up a cup, let alone throw a kunai.

     She distantly hears one of the surgical interns announce that her poisoned 15 is stable, and Tsume does her the courtesy of still keeping an eye on him and not letting him out until Sakura has finished her surgery and had a chance to check him over one last time.

     Finally, 3 hours later, all the nerves are attached solidly enough to the vertebrae, and the muscle around it strong enough for Sakura’s liking, she steps back and lets the medical students close up.

     “We’ve stabilized all three Haruno-sama,” Says Tsume, and she jerks her head.    “Haruno-sama?” She asks. She hadn’t noticed when the switch occurred, with her mind being more focused on fixing the men under her hands. It’s a jarring change to the usual Sakura-san. She’s still learning, she hasn’t been promoted yet, so why is he…?

     “Of course, anything less at this point would be highly disrespectful,”

     “Tsume-san please, you’re older than me, and more experienced—,”

     “I will stick to Haruno-sama,”

     Now that she’s dealt with everything severe, Sakura can feel the exhaustion settling in and lets the honorific go. It’s Tsume-san, he’s always been a bit kooky.

     She goes and checks on 60 first. The bones have been repositioned, and casted, the internal hemorrhaging is gone and any large wounds that need a few healings before being fully healed are wrapped in bandages. His heart rate is steady, and his pulse ox is high, and Sakura feels comfortable releasing him out of her OR.

     “Good work on 60, he’ll be out of the hospital in no time,”

     “To you as well, Haruno-sama,” Tsume says as they walk over to check one more time on the captain. His heart rate is steady, pulse ox is high, the nerves in his legs working fluidly, internal hemorrhaging and other miscellaneous wounds and lacerations neatly healed and/or wrapped. She presses her hands back onto each collarbone, and with a bated breath lets the chakra strings she’d used to stitch each nerve into place before promoting healing in the nerve itself and muscle around it to hold it go. If they nerves aren’t strong enough or muscle too weak to hold it, the nerves will snap back off, and since the cuts were surgically clean, there’s no rough edge for the nerve to cling naturally.

     The nerves stay put, barely move a millimeter, and the chakra she passes through them is smooth and unhindered. She lets out the breath stuck in her chest, and allows for his transfer into their room.

     “Outstanding Haruno-sama,”

     “Thank you Tsume-san,”

     15 is stable as well, he’s still pale around the edges, but she’s happy to see his heart beating strongly and steadily, and his pulse ox higher than it was when he came in. She lets him go too.

     “I’ll take care of Post-Op,” Sakura says, watching as the teams working on the three ANBU stretches and wobbles from their places at their tables. “Go home, drink, eat, and rest. Everyone has done a magnificent job,”

     “What about you Haruno-sama?” Asks one of the medical students who closed up one side of Itachi’s collarbone.

     As much as she wants to collapse somewhere and eat something (she never got to finish her dinner from earlier, and wow, that was only a few hours ago,) her team is more tired than she is. She can survive from the vending machine, and she still wants to make sure Itachi regains movement in his arms and shoulders. She also wants to write down what she saw in the surgery for future use in her own techniques. “I’ll be fine. I still have enough to last the night. This was the only team late and no other ANBU on high risk missions are even close to being due back. I’ll hold the fort. Go home everyone. Rest,”

     Sakura says, and unscrubs.

* * *

 

     Halfway up the stairs to her and Shizune’s office, she realizes that she’s still wearing the blasted heels, and did surgery in them. She hopes to god there’s no blood on them. Now that the adrenaline and sole minded concentration are gone, her feet are killing her. She could take them off then and there, but decides against it, her stockings make her feet slip and slide, and running impossible—with heels she can at least gain some traction. She’s trying to remain professional here anyway, skin tight red dress and bare feet don’t portray that. She doesn’t have a change of clothes either, she’d taken it all home to launder. Of course she’s spending the night at the hospital on call on post op in a red dress.

     Once she’s in her shared office, she opens the emergency stash of snacks she and Shizune keep for low chakra levels. She’s not low enough to warrant a soldier pill, but she wasn’t able to finish her dinner. She feels a bit better after a few ration bars, and chugging some water, however the low chakra level headache she’s achingly familiar with does not disappear.

     All in all, not an ideal way to start a call shift, but at least she can wear her coat. She loves her white doctor’s coat.

     She can’t wear it unless she’s on call at the hospital or with explicit permission from Tsunade or Shizune, but well, she’s on call now, so she gets to wear it (Inner cackles). She writes down her own report to Tsunade, and after taking a 10 minute power nap, resolves to properly round before finding herself a call room to better pass out in.

      Down at the nurses’ desk—empty—she snags the new, almost empty charts and the appropriate patient files herself and sits down to chart. When she finishes—mind numbing work, charts—she goes back up and around the wards, taking extra time in the ICU with some of the more chronic patients, and then passes by the room with ANBU Team 1.

      When she passes by Room 324, she hears suspicious shuffling. To her trained ears, it’s the textbook sound of a ninja trying to escape the hospital. She knows the surgery team and she healed them well, but to be up and about and already ready to get out… She wonders if it’s 15, 40, or 60 making his escape. With a tired sigh, she slams the door open.

      “And you think that’s a good idea?”

     The figure shuffling towards the doorway peeling wires and tubes off of himself is no other than the mask-less captain of Team 1. Sakura bites back a groan as she facepalms. _Even him, they’re all children_.

     Sakura rubs her face in exasperation, but then makes her way towards the window being inched open, and slams it shut.

     “I can’t keep you here against your will Uchiha-san, but I strongly encourage you to stay put.”

     “I have other commitments,” His speech is good, a bit groggy and hoarse, but she expects that from coming out from anesthesia.

     “Then you’ll need a signature either from me, Tsunade-shishou, or Shizune-san, a signature from a supervisor who will monitor your condition since you’re asking for an early discharge, and an escort back to the Compound,”

     She sees his right eye twitch once in displeasure before he turns back towards his cot. Movement is also good, huh, the team did well on him.

     Sakura doesn’t try to help him. Injured ninja are stubborn, Uchiha even more so, and it’s not in her motto to enable problem patients. (Even though she does do it sometimes, but in her defense, it’s _Kakashi._ ) She watches as he gets back into his hospital bed and only then when turns his head towards her, glaring, does she make her way back over to reattach the wires and tubes.

     “I would like to be discharged,”

     “I was just reattaching nerves to your spinal cord less than an hour ago. You really think it’s wise to go home right now?”

     “I would still like to be discharged,”

     Sakura rubs her forehead. Gods, Uchiha.

     “Let’s see what you can do then. Up,” She says, and steps back so he can stand from his bed. She wouldn’t normally let a patient out this early, but the team did unusually well on him.

     “Walk from the window to the door,”

     “Squat,”

     “Jump,”

     “Spin for me,”

     That gets her a sharp look, and Sakura bites her cheek trying not to laugh. Humor doesn’t run in the family, she guesses. Fugaku would’ve laughed.

     “Spin around. I need to see your coordination and foot work,” He does so, but doesn’t look too pleased with it.

     “Alright you can sit down. I’m going to check your lungs and wounds, and test a few other things and we can then discuss your possible discharge,”

     She sits down and listens to his heart, his breathing, has him pick up a cup, drink with it, turn it over, throw it (which he does with astounding force at the hospital wall and Inner has to cackle for Outer who can’t out of professionalism).

     “Alright, are you able to urinate?”

     “Yes,”

     “Wonderful. Since you’re being discharged at an unadvisedly early time, you’ll have to have a supervisor when you get home. You’ll also have to come in in a few days for another check to see how you’re doing,”

     “Last question Uchiha-san, and I’ll let you go,” Sakura says, and makes several notes about his early discharge on his chart. “Name of Attending, Name of Supervisor, and Name of Escort,”

     “Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Mikoto, and anyone that’s free,”

     “Izumi-san was here, would you like her to escort you back to the Compound?”

     “Anyone is fine.”

     Huh.

     She finishes reconnecting his tubes and straightens. “I’ll bring the paperwork up,” She puts her hands on her hips and looks him over once more, checking for unusual chakra fluctuations or anything out of the ordinary. “If you don’t mind me asking, what commitment is important enough to warrant a hack job of an escape from the ICU?”

     “My mother,”

     Understanding is solid in Sakura’s eyes. “Ah. I’ll be quick with the paperwork then.”

 

     After passing Izumi,—who glares a bit at her on her way up to the room Team 1 is in—Sakura makes her way down to the main nurses’ station on the first floor. There’s a small group of the younger nurses huddled around the desk whispering. Sakura doesn’t like to intrude on the girls’ break time, especially when they’re all gathered together like this since it always makes her feel a little bit out of place. There’s also the added fact that some of the older nurses, as seen with Izumi, are a bit cold to her. No matter how hard she thinks or tries to make up for it, she can’t figure out from what past hurt the agitation seeps from, it’s a problem for a later time.

     Still, Itachi needs his discharge papers, and since he needs them for Mikoto, who hasn’t seen her son in a while and been anxious for his return, she needs them now. Steeling her nerves, which again, is ironic considering her position almost two hours prior. Now she needs that same determination to ask a group of gathered nurses for paperwork. Gods she’s quite pathetic.

     “Haruhi-san?” The whispering stops as she comes closer, “I was wondering if you could get me some early discharge forms. There’s a runner in 324,”

     “Sure thing, Haruno-sama, although I’ll need a few minutes, the forms are in the back since we haven’t had any runners in a while,”

     Sakura feels herself freeze. “Haruno-sama?” She repeats. Second one tonight.

     Another girl, Natsume, pipes up in confirmation, “Haruno-sama,”

     Sakura feels her face go beet red at the honorific and immediately waves her arms, “Really, guys, you don’t need to use Haruno-sama, Sakura-san is perfectly fine!”

     “But what you did in the ICU! Only Hokage-sama or Shizune-sama could have done that. The other doctors were at a loss and you single handedly stabilized the entire team!” says Natsume, looking at Sakura insistently.

     “Ah, it really wasn’t that big, and definitely not single handed! It was a team effort… At least use my first name! There’s no need to place me higher than Shizune-san!”

     “We like Haruno-sama better! Especially since you’re our age and able to do _so much_.” picks up Akari. Sakura doesn’t know if her face will ever go back to her regular coloring. Fortunately, before she can combust, she isn’t good with flattery, at all, someone calls her name.

     When she turns to see who it is, she’s surprised to see that it’s her date from earlier (what an unexpected development). She checks her watch, and when she notices that it’s 11pm, hurries over to see the emergency. He wouldn’t be here otherwise.

     “Takeshi-san! Are you alright?” At first glance he seems fine, he’s smiling and he’s not pale or anything. He’s dressed down a bit from when she saw him, but he is cradling his hand. Sakura immediately assumes she looks a mess. Her hair is haphazard, and her make up is probably streaked if Ino used the regular stuff on her.

     “I’m great Sakura-san! I just had a bit of an accident at home and decided it was a good excuse to come see you,” He’s sheepish, and it’s easy to notice the pink on his cheeks.

     Sakura brings whatever chakra she has left to the surface and pulls his hand away from his chest so she can seal it back up. It’s still a bit sweaty.

     “Thank you for your visit, I’m glad I can be of service,”

     Once she finishes, she looks up with a smile, “I’m really sorry I had to cut our date short, it was really nice, but the situation _was_ pressing.”

     “No worries! Was everyone ok in the end?”

     Sakura nods. “Everyone is stable now,”

     “Do you think I could walk you home? Right now?” He asks, and there’s a bit of a stutter that makes Sakura’s previously absconded blush begin to pop back up. Oh shit, wow, ok, this is the stuff she sees in dramas and romance novels, shit, okay.

     “Thank you, but no. I have a few more things I need to finish up before I can go back home. I really don’t want to make you wait around here. You should go home,” Sakura says. (Abort, abort, not equipped to handle this at the moment).

     “Well then how about next Wednesday we go for coffee? Around 3?” He asks, while she walks him towards the doors.

     “You want to go on another date?” Sakura asks bewildered.

     He turns towards her with a bright smile, his cheeks dimpling. “Of course! Our first one was interrupted so we might as well skip to the second one, no?”

     Sakura feels her cheeks heat up even more at the prospect of someone she barely knows wanting to spend more time with her, as a _date_ too. (Maybe Ino is on to something, it’s sort of exciting??). “Sure, I’d love to. Wednesday at 3, that coffeeshop near the bookstore? I haven’t been there before,”

     Takeshi practically skips towards the door at her agreement. “It’s a date!” He turns towards her and before she can consider dodging away he gives her a quick kiss on the cheek and leaves.

     “Get home safely, Sakura-san!” He says before opening the doors and going outside.

     Sakura is too stunned to say anything in return.

     Huh.

 

     When he disappears from view and Inner smacks her out of her reverie, she goes back to the nurse's station for her discharge papers.

     “I didn’t know you were dating someone, Haruno-sama!” Akari says as she smiles.

     Sakura is still too shocked (the word ‘dating’? applied to her?) “Ah, it’s too early to be interesting, Akari-san,”

     “I have the discharge forms Haruno-sama!” Haruhi exclaims, reappearing from the back room. “Did I miss anything?” the girl asks, a bit frazzled from the search.

     “Thank you Haruhi-san, and _please,_ Sakura-san is _fine_ ,”

     Her request is blatantly ignored while Akari whispers a quiet ‘We’ll tell you later the new developments,’

     “The patient in 324 needs an escort back to the Uchiha Compound, are any of you girls free?” Sakura asks, looking over her new forms.

     “I am in 15 minutes! Hide ditched me last minute and isn’t going to pick me up. I’ll take the patient,” says Yuki.

     “Great,” Sakura says, “I’ll bring him down for you once I get some signatures,”

     “Sure thing, Haruno-sama,”

     “Sakura-san,” She tries.

     “Haruno-sama.”

 

     When she walks into Room 324 she’s happy to see that the rest of Team 1 is sleeping and stable, and Itachi is sitting in bed where she left him with all his tubes and wires intact. However she isn’t too pleased to see Izumi attached to his arm like a leech. He almost looks distinctly uncomfortable, but she isn’t quite sure. It’s a problem in any case.

     “Izumi-san, I’m assuming you’re here as an accompaniment or visitor to Uchiha-san?” Sakura asks, straightening her papers.

     “Of course!” Izumi says, and moves to connect her hand with Itachi’s. He moves it out of the way—doesn’t move her arm away from his, but doesn’t let her intertwine their hands. Interesting; hands for a ninja are a sensitive subject, neck as well for obvious reasons, but the hands are vital in making hand signs and performing jutsu, throwing kunai, writing, etc.. Interesting that that he doesn’t let her intertwine their hands even though Itachi is supposedly courting (or being courted) with the intention of marriage in the future.

     “Then I’ll need you to go back to your shift. You’re still getting paid for your time here, and there are other patients who need you more as a nurse rather than a visitor,”

     It’s a sharp enough chastisement that Izumi disengages from Itachi’s side with a huff, and pushes past Sakura out of the room. Before the older girl has a chance to knock their shoulders together sharply, Sakura steps fluidly out of the way.

     “I’ll be back soon Itachi-sama.” She says, and throws a well-hidden sneer in Sakura’s direction that would have passed unnoticed to any other if she hadn’t become familiar with them early on in her hospital career.

     “Thank you for your cooperation,” Sakura says, and closes the door behind her. Ugh, Uchiha. She takes a deep breath, turns around and walks back over to the hospital bed Itachi is occupying.

     “I’m going to check you over, finish up some healing, fill out the paperwork, and you’ll be out of here in 15 minutes.”

     He doesn’t answer her, so she assumes he’s alright with the plan. She still has to ask again if she can heal him for a verbal confirmation that signifies consent, so she asks again after dumping the paperwork into the chair Izumi was occupying.

     “Am I allowed to heal you?”

     He replies with an Uchiha ‘Hn’ and Sakura wants to bash his brains. She doesn’t want to analyze any Uchiha ‘hn’ at the moment, not after Izumi, or with her headache, or with her poor aching feet still in cased in pretty, albeit painful heels. She needs verbal consent for healing after a patient is conscious, and especially needs the verbal consent since her patient is a shinobi, and a high ranked ANBU official at that, coming down from a rough mission.

     “Uchiha-san, it’s a yes or no question. Various neanderthalian grunts do not suffice as verbal confirmation. Am I allowed to heal you?” It’s a bit rude, but the night is getting to her.

     She notices another eye twitch but he answers. “Yes.”

     Sakura breathes a sigh in relief, and starts her exam. His wounds seem to be doing fine, so she heals some of the rougher, deeper ones, and numbs the edges that seem the most inflamed to ease the pain until Mikoto has her claws in him to coddle. His eyes seem fine for what she can examine at a full body range, and there doesn’t seem to be any problems with her reattachment of the roots in his brachial plexi. She lets her chakra flicker out before collapsing into the chair near his bed. She feels a bit woozy.

     “You’re well enough to leave, although I still advise against it,” she says, picking up the paperwork and plucking a pen she’d stashed in her loose bun held by senbon from her office. She signs her name quickly and notes the necessary information before passing the clipboard and pen to him for a signature of the risks of leaving the hospital in lieu of advice against it by the attending. Really, anything to make them reconsider. While he’s signing the forms—she’s sure he isn’t reading them—, she lets her eyes close and head fall back against the wall to soothe her headache.

     Her moment of peace is broken when her pager goes off, loud and shrill, telling her that Yuki was off and ready.

     “Let’s go Uchiha-san, your escort’s ready,”

     She stands up and takes the paperwork back, making her way to the elevators while he follows behind.

     She needs a nap she thinks as she passes the empty call room she spotted before. While the beds and sheets aren’t that comfortable, they’ll do nicely when she hands the runner over.

     Before she can get too deep into her fantasy of taking a nap, the Uchiha beside her gives her pause. He seems strangely agitated. His eye had been twitching at almost everything she’d said, and now that they’re standing in the elevator there’s some sort of tick to his fingers she’s never seen before.

     It’s a bit worrying, since she’d been the one to operate on him and make him regain connection to his upper limbs. Did she fuck up? Did she miss something when she’d scanned him? There doesn’t seem to be a pattern or solid time interval that would indicate a motor tick indicative of a neurological problem. Agitation, maybe? Stress of some sort? Shinobi generally didn’t like hospitals… An ANBU stress thing? Bad mission stress thing? A rude doctor stress thing? Shit her bedside manner wasn’t the nicest but to be fair! Her mentor _is_ Tsunade.

     Itachi’s arm _jerks_ forward _,_ and Sakura’s head turns sharply in concern.

     He immediately slides his hand to clutch at the loop in his pants where his kunai pouches would be connected if he hadn’t just changed out of hospital garb and grips with white knuckles.

     She had to have missed something. Fuck.

     Before he has a chance to retaliate or relax, she knocks him down to his knees so she has better access to his neck to check how she’d fucked up. She might be low on chakra, but he’s fresh out of an operation, even if he is walking. However his reputation precedes him, and she’s amazed that she’d gotten him on his knees, even if there are now pale hands held _tight_ , on her wrists to the point where she hears them creak.

     A red Sharingan eye glares at her and she glares right back. She has Inner, and he’s low on chakra, tough luck a Sharingan eye will do to her right now.

     She pins his shirt under her black strappy heel just in case.

     “You will let me go, and sit. Still. While I fix whatever the problem is. Do you understand? I will rip those discharge papers to shreds and send you back into that bed for the next two weeks if you move a _muscle,_ ” She hisses. What the fuck did she miss? How did she fuck up? She can’t send him back to Mikoto like this. Her heart is beating fast in her throat. Should she call Tsunade or Shizune? What did she do?

     His hands recede from her wrists, and his Sharingan turns off. He stays kneeling while Sakura picks up her examination in the elevator. Threat worked, but he doesn’t seem happy at all to be in this position. Sakura doesn’t give a fuck right now.

     “Did you hit your head? Are you seeing spots? Are in any discomfort?”

     “Everything is fine. Haruno-san.” It’s a final sounding tone. Her eyes are scrunched shut as she makes her chakra sense as narrow as she possibly can, and pushes through each nerve she’d operated on and travels up his spinal cord.

     Nothing. It’s all clear, what the _fuck_ is that tick?

     The elevator doors open with a ding and Sakura is broken out of her concentration by an offended, _loud_ , outraged yell.

     “Get off him, you _child!”_

     Izumi, fucking hell. Not right now.

     She pulls her hands away from his neck and moves her foot away so she’s no longer pinning his shirt to the elevator floor with her heel.

     “Up,” She says, ignoring the fury radiating off the older nurse in waves. Gods what did she think Sakura was doing? Making out with him? Hugging him? Stealing his heart and stealing him away from her?

     Itachi stands back up, rather obediently, she’s glad to note, and Sakura grabs the arm that got her attention. She lifts, turns, and maneuvers it naturally before checking each pathway with chakra.

     “Let him go!”

     There’s nothing. That jerk didn’t seem like nothing, though. She makes careful work of his hands, testing the pathways quickly and letting his hand fall back. Shinobi and hands.

     “Izumi-san, drop it,” Sakura growls her back to the girl, ever the pissed doctor with a complicated puzzle in her hands. The heels make it easier for her to study the closed surgical wounds at his collar bones since it puts her almost nose to nose with Itachi, she’s still a bit short to reach though. Could it be something there? A slight abrasion from the sutures of a medical student when he closed for her? She shouldn’t let them do that with ANBU operatives, fuck.

     There’s still nothing there. The sutures are done up fine, his arms are moving fine, his reflexes are fine, his spinal cord is fine.

     She steps away, bending over to pick up the paperwork she chucked onto the floor and stops the elevator doors from closing.

     “You’re free for now. However you’ll need your mother or someone to escort you back to the Hospital tomorrow so Tsunade can take a look,”

     “That won’t be necessary,”

     She’s missing something. She hates missing something, especially when it comes to her job. She doesn’t like not knowing things she’s supposed to know. She isn’t supposed to _fail_ at this. Sakura is done.

     “Are you the medic here, Uchiha-san?”

     “How _dare_ you?!” Is Izumi’s screech as she attaches herself to Itachi’s side. He doesn’t say a word but narrows his eyes just a touch at Sakura’s snark.

     “Let’s get you to your escort. Yuki-san, are you ready?”

     “Wait you’re letting _her_ take him home?!” Izumi asks and looks flabbergasted. “I’ll take him home!”

     “You’re shift isn’t over yet Izumi-san. You can visit him once your shift is over, or I’ll have to notify Tsunade-shishou that she’s been paying for a nurse that isn’t working,” If this doesn’t make Izumi get back to fucking work, Sakura doesn’t know what she’ll do. She’s already stooping low in brining Tsunade into this.

     Izumi scowls and this time doesn’t hide the vehement dislike as much as she usually does. Gods what did Sakura do? She knows her hand is now being forced, but she can’t stand there and take the punches for no fucking reason now.

     The black haired girl turns towards Itachi and starts whispering something that Sakura can’t hear but imagines are some sappy reassurances he probably doesn’t need or want. She leaves up the stairs shortly after.

     “Yuki-san?” Sakura asks while leading Itachi and the nurse out the hospital doors. “Behave yourself,”

     Yuki is unfortunately a part of the fangirl crowd, and as much as she’s loathe to leave Itachi in her hands, there’s no one else getting off.

     Her weekly visits to the Uchiha Compound had gained notice of each respective group after the hearts and affections the main branch Uchiha Brothers. Even though Sasuke’s group had been quite dormant since his departure, and most have transferred to Itachi’s active group there wasn’t a week that passed without an official group letter passing into her hands with requests for items from the house and various monetary compensation offered. No matter how simple the items were, from a leaf under one of their windows, to the stranger and weirder items—underwear from the hamper, Sakura declined their requests no matter how high the compensation was. It just felt wrong. It didn’t mean that the girls weren’t still persistent about it, every. Single. Week.

     Yuki is generally reasonable though. So Mikoto shouldn’t have too much trouble from her while getting her son back. What matters most to her right now is that Mikoto gets her older son in her clutches, that’ll make Sakura happy.

     “Huh? Oh, yeah sure thing, Haruno-sama, sure thing. Professional nurse, at your service,” Yuki still seems a little flushed looking at Itachi, but at least she wasn’t making that weird pouty face in the Uchiha’s direction. Sakura glanced over at him to see if the tick was back or getting worse, but despite the hand still secured in the loop of his weapons pouch, he seemed fine.

     Maybe she’s overreacting. She doesn’t actually know Itachi all that well, or knows his respective ticks and gestures as she does for Mikoto or Fugaku, so maybe this is a general character trait indicative of stress? Sakura was just looking away when she sees in her peripheral as his heel turns sharply, and he stills again.

     Again, a jerk, but this time not from the upper limbs. What the fuck. He was normally so still, and if he moved it was always with a purpose and always, always, fluidly. This, _jerkiness_ , was strange. There’s familiar frustration and an itch in her arms again and Sakura rakes her nails sharply down her arm. Anko’s diamond nail polish make sit too easy for her to break skin, and as soon as she feels the slip of blood she curses under her breath. She hasn’t been allowed to scratch her arms in a while. It was something she had done when she was younger to release the slow build of tension and anxiety, disappointment in herself, but Mikoto had sort of trained the habit out her system. It seemed that somewhere deep down it stuck.

     She slides the red sleeves bunched around her elbows to staunch the blood; she doesn’t have enough chakra to heal her arms without passing out. (Nap, she needs a nap and some food.)

     “Yuki! I’m sorry!”

     There was a boy around Sakura’s age running towards them. Yuki turns her head sharply towards the voice, and immediately the glassiness of idol worship and fantasy slips from her expression. It’s replaced by shock and then concern and then some other indistinguishable emotion that Sakura had seen on her long dead parents’ faces when they saw each other. She hasn’t seen that emotion in a while.

     “Hide! What…?!”

     “I’m sorry Yuki! I was wrong! I wasn’t thinking can we please just. Can we please talk in private, I’m so sorry, for everything, please,” He’s finally in front of Yuki, who’s holding onto the discharge papers as if it’s her only anchor to the world.

     This is strange, and awkward, and Sakura feels out of place. She makes her decision before she knows it.

     “Yuki, I’ll walk Uchiha-san home, go home with your boyfriend,”

     “Huh?”

     “Discharge papers, go home,” Sakura says, easing the papers out of her hands, and replacing Yuki’s signature with her own.

     “I-- I’m sorry Haruno-sama, I promised and now…,” Before Sakura can say anything in return Hide latches onto Yuki’s hands.

     “Please, Yuki, please can we talk? Please.”

     Sakura feels so uncomfortable right now.

     “Let’s go Uchiha-san,” He seems to be of a similar mindset since he follows immediately as they hightail it out of the zone of emotional upheaval.

     When they lose the sight of the hospital, Sakura finally lets out a sigh. Nap and food have been pushed back it seems.

     It’s a silent 15 minute walk.

 

     They eventually make it past the Uchiha Compound gates and up to the Main House. Mikoto had sensed them coming and was waiting eagerly at the doorway. Even though it was 11 in the evening, she looked stunning as usual; her hair was up and not a spot of makeup was out of place. The folds of her evening wear were pressed cleanly with no wrinkle in sight. At the sight of her son she brightens even more, and he doesn’t spare a moment, instead increasing his pace, (that was sudden Outer, that was a jerk again) to go up the stairs of the porch and up to his mother. Sakura sees, as she walks up, his hand coming up to grip his mother's forearm, and Mikoto’s smile fading as she finds something in his impassive face that she doesn’t quite like.

     (That’s different, something’s up Outer, she always smiles at him, something’s up.)

     “Mikoto-san! I need you to sign these please,” Itachi has already disengaged and disappeared through the doorway. Mikoto smiles again when she looks back towards Sakura who had climbed up the steps to give the woman a pen and the discharge forms, but it’s a bit distracted.

     “Sure thing Sakura, I hope everything is alright at the hospital?”

     “Yes, everyone is doing well,”

     “Good, I’ll let you get back then. I’ll see you next Saturday,”

     “Of course Mikoto-san,” Sakura says, and watches the door close.

     She’s a few steps away from the Main House, barely off their porch before she hears the telltale sound of glass shattering. It makes her pause and she looks automatically up towards the second floor of the house.

     Sasuke is gone. Fugaku is at a clan function. The only people in the Uchiha Main House are Mikoto and Itachi. She’d just seen Mikoto close the door.

     There’s the sound again, glass shattering. There’s only a faint glow from some lamp on the second floor, but she’s sure that the sound wasn’t from the first floor. Sakura doesn’t know if she should turn back.

     She hears several thumps of what she assumes is someone running upstairs.

     She’s back in front of the door again but her hand hesitates on the doorknob. Should she go in and check on them? Should she leave since her business here is done, and half of the party inside would probably not be receptive to her presence? It’s not a 66% tilt in her favor right now, she can’t barge in if it just turned out to be an accidental bumping into a vase or something, a domino effect or whatever. She might be overreacting.

     Her ears are straining for the sound of glass shattering again. _If we hear more glass, go in, 3 times is too much to be an accident._ Her hand is inches from the door knob and she’s not breathing as she listens.

     There are no more sounds, and Sakura reluctantly pulls herself from the porch and out of the Compound. Her heart feels weirdly heavy. There’s something up, something she doesn’t know and can’t solve, and it’s frustrating.

     When she walks back into the Hospital feet burning from the blasted heels, she collapses in the closest call room nearest to the ICU. When she wakes up to a page, the bad feeling in her heart hasn’t left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im a SLUT for reviews,


	12. snakes can be poisonous, or didn't you know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy FUCK sorry for the 4 month long hiatus!!! life got away from me there, and im moving into my uni dorm tomorrow and its 2 am and ive been working on this bad boi for SO long,  
> remember when my chaps were 5k, yeah, uh, were talking 20k for this one, which hopefully makes up for the gap TT  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE SUPPORT AND THE SPECULATION AND YOUR COMMENTS QUITE LITERALLY MAKE MY DAY, and honestly yall r so smart, im, in awe, and so grateful at you essays of comments bcz, wow, blushing, thank you  
> now, enjoy friends, ch12, long awaited

     While Itachi is a nagging thought in the back of her mind, it doesn’t stop her from going home and passing out at the end of her impromptu shift. At that point, the exhaustion is so acute, that she’s stumbling over her own heels while unlocking the door to her apartment. It’s 5 past 6 in the morning. With itchy eyes, she barely has enough energy to chow down an energy bar before collapsing, dress and heels and all, into her bed.

     She wakes with the mid-morning sun in her eyes, four hours after she’d stumbled home. Rolling, actually rolling, out of the bed reveals that her bra had dug painfully into her sides and the blood had dried her sleeves to her now scabbing, self-inflicted wounds. They’re nowhere near the wounds she pulled when she was younger, but they’re wounds all the same. With several disoriented crashes she makes it to her bathroom, and has to balk at the sight of herself in the mirror.

     She’s a veritable mess. Her hair, before so carefully curled by Ino, is now a mass of tangles, and her makeup has left rings of black around her eyes and smudges of red at her lips. Accompanied by her stretched out sleeves and bloodied forearms—she looks like she’s been dragged through a blender. Then, remembering that this is probably what she looked like at the hospital, if a little less bloody and maybe a bit more straightened out, groans, because she just can’t seem to get the whole ‘put together all the time look’.

     After showering, and fully praising the Nidaime in his determined mission to install plumbing in Konoha, Sakura leaves her apartment well-caffeinated and fully ready, if still a bit tired, to resume her duties at the hospital.

     Something in her—probably Inner—nags for her to go through the greenery this time, instead of the streets. In various spots in and around Konoha the training grounds are stationed. The bigger ones placed towards the walls around Konoha, but a fair number of them are hidden in the outcroppings of trees right in the center of the village and the surrounding Clan Compounds. They’re so easy to overlook, with all the greenery Konoha sports.

     She’s almost surprised to see him, sitting at the base of a thicker tree in one such training ground. The paved streets skirt around the grounds, the trees forming a perimeter. He’s practically hidden in plain sight.

     It’s small, Sakura notes, and doesn’t seem to be used often. The grass is taller and more wild, the posts are starting to stand askew, with moss creeping up their sides. She doesn’t know who uses these grounds—she had just realized it existed herself, but assumes by Itachi’s profile sitting against the trunk of a thick oak, that it must be him. She’s loathe to encroach on a private moment, but it’s too late to backtrack.

     He had an appointment at the hospital at 9, she remembers, and since she wasn’t there Tsunade or Shizune must have taken him. They know his prognosis, but she doesn’t. It’s a weak excuse, but something is bugging her, and she’s never been one to let sleeping dogs (crows? Dragons? What even _is_ the Uchiha animal?) lie.

     “Sorry to disturb you, Uchiha-san,” Sakura says as she walks over with some trepidation and plops herself down on the grass a few feet away. His chakra is roiling, as if he’s in the middle of battle and has no intention of settling. “I was wondering if I could check you over one last time,”

     His eyes open to look at her, and Sakura tries to keep herself looking as non-threatening and well-intentioned as possible. It’s quite easy, her hair is _pink_.

     “You don’t trust the Hokage’s diagnosis?” He looks more tired than usual she notes. He’s paler, a bit thinner, and the stress lines under his eyes and the surrounding skin is darker that before.

     “I trust her. I just haven’t debriefed with her yet,” Sakura says with a smile. He looks away, unamused, and knows she’s laying it on too thick. Her saccharine smile fades from her lips and she settles on the ground with a sigh. She’ll be here a while.

     His chakra is a furious mass, a river in a monsoon, instead of the controlled rush of a waterfall.

     “Your chakra’s distressed,” she remarks, staring up at the swaying boughs above their heads. At the feeling of his gaze on her, she meets his eye.

     “Distressed?” He asks with a raise of an eyebrow.

     Sakura hums and turns her eyes back up towards the boughs. “You’re trying to exhibit a calm, relaxing persona, but your chakra ruins the picture. It’s like a beacon,”

     “Is that why you came over?”

     “Partly. If I came into the clearing and exited immediately after seeing you, wouldn’t that have been more awkward?”

     “Perhaps,”

     Sakura stifles a grin. “If you really need an answer, call it curiosity,”

 

     “Curiosity killed the cat, you know,” he says.

     “And satisfaction brought it back,” Sakura sits up. She knows the value of patience, so she bides her time and lets the Uchiha speak when he would.

     The sun beats warmth down on her shoulders, and she can feel herself relaxing.

     “Your opinion of Izumi-san is low,”

     An unexpected, yet not at all wild topic to consider. Sakura takes a moment to gather her thoughts.

     “I feel that her energy might be better spent on more important things,” she dodges the outright affirmation of her dislike towards his rumored girlfriend.

     “Like?”

     “Doing her job, striving to be better at it,” Sakura says, and pursing her lips, looks down at the grass beneath her fingertips “I’m younger than her, so I don’t feel quite comfortable with reprimanding her.”

     She shoots her head up, remembering her mannerisms the night before “I’m sorry you had to experience my… bossiness, as other people have lovingly named it. My manner of speaking to both you and Izumi-san was incredibly unprofessional,”

     “You were doing your job, Haruno-san, no need to apologize for it,”

     Sakura smiles in thanks and continues. “She has some problem with me, which I’m sure she chatted your ear off about afterwards, but she hasn’t confronted me about it and it makes it… difficult, to say the least, to work with her,”

     “It’s a barely legitimate reason,”

     Sakura hums a sigh.

     “Wouldn’t you like to know what it is?”

     Sakura keeps her gaze planted steadfast on the ground by her knee. “Not really. I’d rather hear it from her, and since it’s not legitimate in your eye, I doubt it’s really worth my time to worry about then,”

     “That’s high praise,”

     “You don’t seem the type of person to involve himself in anything less than important matters. I can’t say to know you all that well though, so it’s an assumption,” she pauses for a minute, and then looks at the man sitting across from her. “One that’s contradicted by something. I have a question Uchiha-san, of a rather personal nature, I hope you don’t mind me asking,”

     “If you’ve decided to voice it, I’m sure it’s nothing horrible,”

     “Why _are_ you with Izumi-san? From an outside perspective it doesn’t seem like you hold as much affection or regard towards her as she does towards you,”

     “I do not have any sisters who will take the position of Matriarch when my mother decides to step back. I, as eldest son am to marry someone to provide a seamless transition once my parents, decide that they wish to step back from clan duties. I’m setting the pieces for such a transition.”

     That’s… That sounded like the most practiced response in the history of responses, and she would know. She’s been parroting paragraphs from her medical textbooks to Tsunade for years now.

     She starts carefully, biting her tongue. “As a medic, I understand the concept of preventative measures—solving a problem before it becomes one. But… don’t you think that your solution is, for lack of a better term, lackluster?”

     “You’re questioning me?” His eyes, sharp, focus on her.

     Sakura doesn’t like his tone.

     “Yes, both the decision and your taste. Though that last one is probably marred by bias so don’t be shocked too deeply by that one,”

     She’s spent 3 years sat across from him at dinner (well, when he’s there), and all of Mikoto’s stories about him have all but completely demystified him. Is he attractive? Yes, he’s an Uchiha, and an active shinobi. Is he powerful? Yes, more so than she and thus something to strive to imitate. Is he intimidating? Sure, if you let yourself be. Will he hurt her? _No_.

     That’s a good enough reason in her book to not give into everyone else’s spineless reaction to his combination of silence and _a look_ when he hears something he doesn’t care for. He’s still human, as smart as he is, and Sakura will let him know if he’s making a mistake because apparently no one else has.

     “Humor me, Uchiha-san,”

     “Haven’t I been?” He sounds almost disgruntled, if his voice were pitched any lower it would be a mutter. It’s such an unexpected tone that Sakura bites her cheek to keep from smiling, or even worse, laughing.

     “Are we in the middle of a war?”

     “No,”

     “Is the Uchiha Clan dying out?”

     “It is not,”

     “Are your lovely parents sick, dying, or incapable of continuing their duties as Matriarch and Clan Head respectively?”

     “Neither,”

     “Then why would you even consider courting with the intention of marriage?”

     She looks him straight in the eye. “Power vacuums are nasty business; I can’t blame you for trying to avoid it, however—,”

     He stays silent, but she thinks he’s starting to see her point.

     “You’re acting too quickly for the time we are in. In the middle of a war, death rates are high, which necessitate earlier marriages and earlier born offspring. If the Uchiha Clan was dying out, I could see your reasons for getting married early and having children early since, hey, the more the merrier and now those kids are needed for the survival of the clan. If Fugaku-san, or Mikoto-san, were to tell you that they were unable to continue their duties, and you as Clan Heir were needed to recreate the dynamic necessary for the Uchiha Clan to flourish, then yes, getting married would be an important step.”

     “I see you’ve thought this out,”

     “I see you haven’t,” Sakura says, and feels his chakra blister a bit, but then settle. Inner rolls her eyes.

     “Has Mikoto-san asked you to look for a bride?”

     “She has not,”

     Sakura sits back, point made. “Then why on _earth_ would you start? Unless you actually like Izumi-san, which then means I have to apologize,”

     “You wouldn’t apologize for the previous tirade?”

     “No.” Sakura says, pushing her chin up. “I believe it’s alright for friends to tell each other that they’re making a mistake. I’d want to be told too, regardless if I’d listen or not,”

     To her relief he takes her friendship declaration in stride.

     “I’ll be sure to find the exact moment and repay the favor,”

     At his expression Sakura actually laughs. He looks almost put out, and if he’d been 15 years younger she’s sure he would have actually pouted.

     “But tell me, really.” Sakura says, laughter dissipating. “Regardless of our seemingly conflicting thoughts on this matter, why Izumi-san? Why her and not someone else?”

     “I’ve known her since we were young, and she’s always expressed interest. She’s an adept fighter, and has a stable position at the Hospital,”

     “You mean to say she’s a fangirl who you happened to notice,”

     “I believe that’s one way to put it. However not how I phrased it,”

     “You do know what a fangirl’s attentions even mean, right?”

     “I have a horde of them. I do,”

     “I was once one of them, and I think you don’t,”

     “Enlighten me then,” he’s slightly acerbic, but Sakura doesn’t let it stop her.

     “She loves the idea of you, not you,”

     He stays silent.

     “If Izumi had fallen in love with you for you—not as an unachievable goal, a god of a shinobi, or a fine specimen of a man with a clan heir title—if she had fallen in love with you as a person, with faults and emotions and quirks like any other, I would understand,”

     She continues:

     “However, this may be presumptuous of me, might be _completely_ out of line, but I don’t see that love in her towards you. I don’t see the love your parents share, the love your mother has for your father reflected in her eyes when she looks at you. And I’ve seen your mother ogle your father a fair amount,” she adds with a light laugh, before turning more serious.

     “Marriage is undoubtedly a power union. One marries another for strength, a familial unit that survives the toughest rocks or pressures. That’s what your mother has done for your family, she has forged and welded bonds of _steel_ , so that even if one unit is missing he is not forgotten, and neither can the family not function without him. What will your marriage to Izumi prove? How will it strengthen what your mother has worked hard to accomplish?”

     “There’s an adage I hate particularly,” Sakura says, scowling at the mere thought. “We always want things more when we can’t have them,”

     “Your reasoning?” He doesn’t look too offended by her speech, at all really, if she’d looked closer.

     “Doesn’t that mean the attraction and desire fades once you get them? That now the game has been played and the result is achieved, it—someone would just be a trophy left to gather dust after being paraded? We want things more when we can’t have them, sure, but that is in no way a decent justification for getting that object—or person if the situation demands. Izumi, all fangirls want you because you’re unattainable. Once you aren’t; once she gets you, married life and all, her feelings will change, since in no way were they justifiable in the first place. As harsh as it may sound, she doesn’t deserve you, as a human being, or partner if all she wants is an ideal.”

     He’s silent, but Sakura has come to expect that from him.

     “I can’t say to know your innermost thoughts or feelings, or even say that I know _you_ , Uchiha-san, but I believe you are making a mistake,”

     There’s a slight furrow to his brow, but overall he looks contemplative. She lets him think.

     

     “You may examine my injuries, Haruno-san,”

     Inner pumps a victory in Sakura’s head, _mission accomplished_ , as she stands and pulls green chakra to her hands. She goes quickly, yet thoroughly, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.

     “Are you experiencing any difficulties moving your arms, picking this up, making signs?”

     “No,”

     “What about the jerk, was Tsunade able to find a diagnosis?”

     “It’s been resolved.” He pauses. “It wasn’t physical,”

     Sakura has her mouth open to ask before the dots connect, the shattered glass, the jerk, the need to get ho— _Oh_.

     Her hands, which had stilled at the revelation, resume prodding at the scar tissue at his neck, even more delicate with empathy.

     “Would you like me to heal the scar tissue?” It’s not something she normally does, and Tsunade urges her against doing it since it doesn’t teach any ninja any lessons. At least the scars serve as a reminder for them not to do dumb shit. This is different, though.

     “If you would, Haruno-san,”

     Sakura nods.

     “Are there any other complaints, concerns that you might want me to take care of?”

     “No, thank you,”

     She pulls away and sits back down a few feet away.

     She could leave now, her business technically completed, but while his chakra has cooled a bit, it’s still roiling. It bubbling against her skin in a harsh juxtaposition between the scene she sees and the scene she senses.

     “Izumi-san isn’t the worst of your worries, is she?”

     “You seem awfully invested,”

     Sakura shrugs, her eyebrows jerking up. “I hold your mother in high regard. She holds you in high regard, consider it transitive property,”

     He shifts so he’s sitting upright instead of reclining against the trunk of the oak. “A mission went off course,”

     “Were Kabuto and Orochimaru there?” The words jump out of Sakura’s mouth before she has a chance to stop them. It would explain a lot.

     He glances at her before looking back into the trees.

     “I’m sure as Hokage’s Apprentice you’ve seen the report, Haruno-san,”

     “First person recounts are always more interesting. I also have a vested, professional interest in Kabuto’s techniques, which makes first person better,”

     “I’m afraid that due to the classification I’m unable to offer you a first person narrative Haruno-san. You’ll have to stick to reading over the Hokage’s shoulder,”

     The subtle, yet humorous snub brings a cheeky grin to her lips. Maybe he does have a sense of humor in him, she just hasn’t spoken to him long enough to recognize it. Or he’s just being politely prickly so she’d want to leave as if of her own volition.

     A thought strikes, a theory forms, and the small grin slips off her face as she furrows her eyebrows.

     “Was he there?”

     She doesn’t need to emphasize anything, add a name, or intonation.

     “He was not,”

     He doesn’t look her way, instead focuses somewhere in the trees.

      “I heard there’s a new tea shop, right near the bookstore. They supposedly serve good dango,” Sakura says, in lieu of an apology for bringing him up.

      The sun has risen higher in the sky, and she’s sure she’s later than she’d even planned on being.

      “I’m sorry for the intrusion, Uchiha-san.” She says, standing. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts,”

      Walking away, she hears him raise his voice. “Have a nice day, Haruno-san,”

      While his chakra hasn’t completely settled (and she doubts she would have ever been able to settle it single-handedly), it’s distinctly calmer. Sakura considers it a job well done.

* * *

 

      That morning, an hour after Sakura had clocked in again, Shizune, saying that she’s clocking in too many hours, forces her out of the Hospital. It’s not an argument that Sakura has ever been able to win, so once she’s caught and ~~man~~ woman-handled out the main entrance, she goes quietly. As in, she thrashes violently but stays dead silent because if they both start yelling the walls are to collapse and they’ll both be yelled at for disturbing patients.

      She has an afternoon free, and while she’d normally go back to her apartment to study, she feels a moral obligation to visit Ino. The girl is always making sure to insert herself into Sakura’s life, whether she really wants it at that moment or not, and it’s begun to feel a bit one sided. Ino is precious; time to annoy her.

      It doesn’t work out as well as she hoped. Initially she’d planned to barge into the Yamanaka Flower Shop (Ino worked there on Tuesdays, and all the other days in the basements of T&I), plop herself on the stool right in front of the counter, and whenever Ino would try to help a poor customer in the shop or arrange a bouquet or some other nonsense, impede all attempts until the girl got fed up and eventually went with her to the nearby café. Today, however, upon seeing Sakura walk smugly through the door and just slightly, nudge the doormat crooked—not enough for a regular person to notice, but Ino has an eye for detail in interior design, and boy does Sakura love messing with it—Ino tears off her apron and immediately begins to close up shop.

      “Finally, Forehead! I thought you were never gonna show!” She calls out louder. “Daad! I’m heading out with Sakura! I’ll be back in an hour or so!”

      Neither Sakura nor Ino hear a response, but it doesn’t have a chance to faze them since Ino is already dragging Sakura out the door (straightening the doormat and giving Sakura’s arm a painful squeeze with her freshly, diamond polish manicured nails), and down the street to the café.

      They’re sitting at their usual table with the waiter having just left with their usual orders, when Ino finally sinks her metaphorical claws into her.

      “Spill! What happened?”

      Sakura leans her elbows onto the table and digs her palms into her eyes in mortification. She’s had a few hours to stew over her conversation with Itachi, and now she can only cringe.

      “I might’ve ignored all standard routes of polite conversation with a man I barely speak to barring passing circumstance, and not only might I have declared to him that we’re friends, and he’s an idiot, but that his relationship is a sham, and that his girlfriend sucks.”

      “Woah! Wait, what? Back up? Who are we talking about here?”

      “I got called into the Hospital last night, and got Uchiha Itachi on my operating table,”

      Ino hisses at the implication of the Uchiha being injured enough to get into Sakura’s OR, but then laughs.

       “Wait, wait, wait, you called him an idiot?! The actual genius in Konoha, prodigy unparalleled save for Kakashi-san, ANBU Captain Uchiha Itachi, an idiot?” Ino practically guffaws, too delighted in Sakura’s mortification.

       “Shut up, Ino-pig! Don’t say it so loud! And no, I didn’t explicitly call him an idiot, but it was heavily implied!” Sakura says peeking around the booth to check for stray ears.

       Ino keeps laughing, “Full story, now,”

       “Last night, like I said, I got called in for an emergency procedure on an ANBU team. Turned out it was led by Uchiha Itachi, and instead of recuperating like a normal person, he needed to be discharged immediately. Fine, whatever, I hate doing it, but I did, got him home and whatnot. Izumi just happened to be doing a shift,”

       “Yikes,” Ino pulls a face, but waves her hand for her to go on.

       “And I’ve told you how Izumi’s been grating on me, fiercely. I have no idea what I did to her, but at this point I don’t even care. She gave me trouble going into the OR, in the patient room, and at the nurse’s desk when I was trying to fix up some last touches.” She skips over the details. They’re not hers to share.

       “So? Did you insult them there or?”

       “I didn’t insult them! I just spoke my mind, and if I’m being frank, the truth! And no not there,”

       “So where? When did you manage to accomplish this feat? And really, how’d you get out alive? I know you’re buddy-buddy with the Uchiha, but really, insulting the Clan Heir is a stretch!”

       “Ugh, I _know!_ Imagine if I did that to Neji-san. He would get an aneurism for sure,”

       Ino laughs, and Sakura lets out her own bemused sort of chuckle.

       “So I went to the hospital this morning, Shizune kicked me out early as you can see, but before I got there I ran into him. He’s fine now, tip-top shape,” Still a bit, strained, if her chakra sense is any indication, but physically, fine.

       “Anyway, I did one last check up, and just so happened to ask him a few questions regarding his motives and reasoning towards particular aspects in his personal life, and it just might have so happened that I might have responded in a way that’s not actually polite towards an almost stranger, and especially, Clan Heir that can easily slit my throat and hide my body where _no one_ can find it.”

       “I mean, you guys have dinner with his parents every week. Sure, he doesn’t attend all of them but I’m sure he’s not an almost stranger, Sak. I’m assuming you asked him why Izumi? So what did he say? What were his motives?”

       “I know your side job and at least half of your income comes from selling the information I give you about the Uchiha brothers to each respective fan club, but I am _not_ giving you that information.”

       “Right, right, you and your protective instincts, which apparently now envelop an entire clan,”

       “They’re nice people!”

       “Mhm, and you’re insane,”

       Sakura rolls her eyes, but moves on.

       “Surprisingly enough, he didn’t kill me on the spot. Although I’m sure that since I left and he’s had the time to think over what I said, I will be vanished in the near future.”

       “Ah, come off it, I’m sure you’ll be fine, if anything you can just hide out in your lab in the Hospital and he won’t find you,”

       “An accurate enough statement,”

       “Anyways, while this train of thought was wholly unexpected, although very intriguing, how did your date go?”

       “Oh!”

       Ino looks entirely unimpressed. “Yes, _oh_.”

       “I totally forgot. The night sort of dragged on… but it was really nice, we have another date scheduled for tomorrow,”

       “That’s awesome, Billboard-brow!”

       “You were right, he’s cute, and kind, and a bit awkward, but totally dateable,”

       “I expect full reports on your first kiss, and everything that comes after!”

       Sakura hits her with her spoon that had just arrived with the waiter and their shared ice cream sundae.

       The waiter leaves with a short quick bow, and Sakura turns back towards her best friend.

       “How have things been with you?”

       The smile on her painted lips turns a little strained and immediately brings Sakura to attention.

       “What’s wrong?”

       “Nothing’s necessarily wrong… Remember that time I told you about wanting to be a Kunoichi?”

       Sakura freezes. “Kunoichi with a capital K?”

       Ino hums in assent, and Sakura forces herself to take a deep breath.

       “I finally got Tsunade’s approval, I mean she gave me the ‘you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to’ lecture, and the ‘it’s not officially in your contract’ lecture, and forced me into a week waiting period before I officially sign on, but, I’m a Kunoichi, now,”

       “Don’t you need to do a lot of specialty training?” The sundae is forgotten. Sakura’s spoon is still in her hands, but now she’s worrying.

       “Yeah, a lot. Some ANBU members in that particular division with expertise helped me out, both with theory and hands-on instruction,” Ino snorts a bit with her pun, but it lacks its usual brightness. Sakura doesn’t laugh with her.

       “How long have you been training?”

       "Since the week after my 16th birthday, so around half a year now. I didn’t want to tell you because you’d worry, and you’re still going to worry now, but at least you can’t talk me out of it since I’m days away from signing on.”

       “Why?” Sakura feels the strain on her brows from how she’s furrowing them.

       “I thought about this one for a while… I’m sort of the knock out blonde you would expect you know, to be a part of Konoha’s Honeypot? Obviously I have some other skills, working in T&I, and clan jutsus and stuff, but, I can’t really be a one trick pony can I? The Chuunin Exams in Suna were rough, and I barely passed with the skin of my teeth while you and Chouji were obvious shoe-ins.”

        Sakura is about to correct her, but Ino forges on.

“Plus, Kurenai is planning to have a child with Asuma quite soon, which effectively pulls her out of a pool that’s already too small for at least a year and a half, and Anko can’t really manage all by herself… And I want to be useful, to someone, or for something, and I don’t know. And it’s not like it’s the only type of mission I’ll be taking, obviously ANBU handles the majority and the worst of it, I’ll just be in the pool that catches the rest… And of course I won’t be sent on any really bad missions for a while, I’ll be put under an operative to observe and then assist, and then will I get solo work… But you won’t have to worry about me I promise!” Ino’s rambling at this point, but Sakura doesn’t have the heart to stop her.

      “I’ll always worry about you Ino-pig, but if you say it’s going to be fine, I’ll have to believe you,”

      “Thanks Billboard-brow… I don’t know it just seems like a good fit? Mind techniques and intelligence gathering—I’m blonde, and now I’m an undercover sex worker,”

      “That’s crass. You’re not a sex worker, you’re a Kunoichi, there’s a big difference,” Sakura tries to be firm, but Ino’s relief at finally telling her best friend her career decision seeps the iron out of Sakura’s tone.

      “Sure. I get paid _way more_ ,”

      Sakura can’t hold her snort back, and Ino laughs with her.

      “Does your dad know?”

      Ino snorts, “Gods no, I’d be grounded before I could get the words out,”

      Even though they’re in a time of peace, mission requests don’t stop. All sorts of missions, from Ds to As, to Ss make their way to the Mission Desk. Of course, the amount is less, but specialty missions requiring Kunoichi (or their male equivalent) still made their way through. ANBU managed most, as they did with most Ss and As, but sometimes girls their age would be needed to complete missions. It was a necessary evil, and since their life spans are already short, waiting until someone is 20, 25, 30, to ease into the profession is too long. By 30 most are dead, and those beyond are too broken to be of any use. As much as Sakura dislikes the institution, it’s not something she can change, only hope her friend is making the right choice.

     “If you ever need any help, in anything, for anything. I’m here, I’ll always be here for you, do you understand?”

     “Of course I know, and speaking of which, can I cash in already?”

     “Sure, spill,”

     “I need you to brew me a few poisons, I’m running out,” Ino says, pulling out a shred of paper from her bag. Sakura checks it over and groans.

     “I’ll have to work in my kitchen again you know, everything you want needs its own space in the lab, and I’m not working on anything similar there. Plus most of this stuff is above your pay grade so don’t think that I don’t notice that you’re using me to save a couple thousand ryo.

     “Pretty please!” Ino asks, clasping her hands and batting her eyelashes. “I love you!”

     “Ugh, fine! And you know that it’s not actually brewing, more like engineering,” Sakura says and collapses back onto the leather of the booth after rolling her eyes.

     “Brewing sounds so much cooler though,” Ino keeps laughing.

     She fixes Sakura with a mischievous stare. “I still can’t believe you called Uchiha Itachi an idiot,”

     “Honestly where the hell do you get off?” It’s a rhetorical question, one that Ino wasn’t even really supposed to hear, but she does.

     “ANBU HQ, dear,”

     The scandalized look on Sakura’s face only serves to make Ino laugh harder.

* * *

 

     At 3pm the next day, Sakura waits almost anxiously in front of the coffee shop she’d agreed to meet Takeshi at. The concept of dressing up for a date was wholly unusual (impressing someone? Uh…), so hopefully, her casual was near enough to his casual. She’s in muted tones, as usual, and her Chuunin vest is at its place on her chest. She’s left her apartment with less weaponry than usual, but still has the solid 25% of her usual supplies to function like a regular human being.

     She senses him approach before she sees him, and so has a chance to center herself and push Inner further into her mind so as not to distract her or maker her act—more ninja-ish. No use in scaring him off.

     When he sees her, his face breaks out into a grin to which Sakura’s cheeks immediately flood with color and her heartbeat beats just a little quicker. Somehow, in the light of day, where their appearances are less frilled the fact that this is a _date_ is more surreal. At night, when she’s primped to the max and whooshed into a fancy restaurant, it’s easier to put on a mask and observe the situation as if she’s out of her own body. Here, in the daylight, when she’s purposefully made a slot for him in her busy schedule, with his almost puppy-like attention immediately on her… _shit it’s an actual date_.

     “Takeshi-san, I’m glad to see you!”

     His smile somehow, grows even wider.

     “Me too Sakura-san! How have you been?”

     “Good, always good, and yourself?”

     “Fantastic!” he says with a bright smile, and then with a stutter says something courageous. “When with you I’m always fantastic,”

     At that Sakura is so stunned her mind goes a little bit blank.

     “I was thinking we could get some coffee and take a walk? Maybe find a bench or something?”

     Sakura nods, furiously working chakra into her circulation system to get her blush under control. “That would be nice,”

     His teeth are almost blinding.

 

     They get their coffee. When Sakura scans the menu plastered above the counter, she’s a bit disappointed to see that the majority of drinks are concoctions of cream, sugar, and syrup. She’s sure for a lot of people, this wouldn’t be a concern, but for Sakura this is a bit of a problem. If she wants an actual caffeine kick, she needs the good stuff, so when it’s her and Takeshi’s turn to order, she orders a triple espresso to be on the safe side. Takeshi orders a regular coffee, which Sakura would never do since she’d rather die than sip on an entire cup of watery and mild caffeine. She keeps her opinion to herself though, since it would be rude, and she doesn’t want to be rude on a second date. Can’t let this boy’s image of her be ruined.

     She pays, since he paid for dinner before, and both exit the frilly shop into the street. Sakura is happy to note that her triple espresso is decently strong for her tastes, and Inner pats her on the back for making a smart choice.

     “Triple Espresso, huh? Isn’t that a bit strong?”

     Sakura feels her cheeks heat up. “For some. I’ve found it’s the only type I like,”

     “Can I try some? I don’t think I’ve actually had an espresso before,”

     “Sure, we can trade, I’ll see if the regular is something I could maybe like. Highly doubt it though,” Sakura says with a laugh and they swap cups.

     The faces they make are nearly identical in their disgust.

     “It’s so watery!” says Sakura as Takeshi chokes out “It burns as it goes down!”

     It’s a nice tension breaker.

 

     The rest of the date proceeds without a hitch. They find a bench in the park near the playground where Sakura used to play with Ino, and sit, enjoying their coffee and light conversation. She learns that he’s an only child, and it’s easy to bond over that. She speaks briefly, very briefly, over her parents’ passing, and he’s observant enough to let the topic be. They talk about their favorite books, although they don’t quite overlap.

     “I’m generally reading medical texts, but if it’s for fun, I would have to say I’d pick something up on philosophy, maybe a mix between philosophy and fantasy. I’ve also been known to pick up a romance every now and again,”

     “Neat! I’d, wow, this is sorta embarrassing, but I adore, romance books,” His cheeks are bright red and he rubs the back of his neck and can’t meet her eyes when he says this.

     Sakura just, has to laugh at that. She would have never expected it, but assumes that his chivalry has to come from somewhere since he’s not of a clan family or any particular nobility.

     By 5, however, Sakura is feeling a bit strained. She likes talking with Takeshi, but the topics aren’t something that she’s used to conversing about. Usually her conversations with people involve some sort of ninja art, or medical art, and now to be discussing things like favorite foods and colors, and general conversation meant to get to know someone has her drained. He’s a decent boy, she learns, two hours after their date began. Out of the civilian academy he took an apprenticeship at his family bakery, and plans to take it over once his parents retire. He likes the color blue for no particular reason (she’d asked), doesn’t like discussing sad things at all, and likes salmon nigiri the best. He’s apparently had one girlfriend before, but their relationship ended after a month when she’d had to move on with the actor troop she was with. He’s never stepped foot out of Konoha, and doesn’t really want to. He helps out at the Inuzuka Animal Shelter when he has time, and makes sure to give any remaining bread at the end of the day to the civilians who can’t afford it. Really, an ideal boy.

     However, the constant talking has her head spinning a bit and her limbs feeling like lead. While he did most of the talking, Sakura still felt like her jaw and tongue were going to fall out of her head. Since, after some probing, he didn’t really understand ninja art, or shinobi in general, particularly _why_ they would want to go into that profession, Sakura kept most of her experiences and thoughts to herself. He was quick to backtrack since she was a ninja, and told her he thought they were cool, but Sakura still decided to keep her mouth shut about it.

     2 hour mark passed, and she’s sure that this is where she needs to cut the date off. She doesn’t actually have anything scheduled after to use as an excuse, so she doesn’t know how exactly to go about ending their date.

     Kakashi, the miracle he is, chooses that moment to find her.

     “Ah would you look at that, it’s my favorite student,” He says, vaporizing out of thin air. Takeshi, at his sudden appearance flinches, knocking his empty coffee cup to the ground from where it was set on the seat of the bench. She’s glad that he at least didn’t squeak.

     “Kakashi-sensei!”

     Within seconds, Sakura has already stood up and crossed the distance between them and brought her healing chakra to her hands to check him over. “You’re back early!” She pauses for a minute to think over the days “An entire week?”

     “It went easier than expected, no casualties, no injuries, no problems,”

     “And the ninken?”

     “Annoyed that they were dragged along,”

     Sakura laughs. Kakashi’s chakra levels are nearly full, the mission an undoubted success.

     “Who’s with you?” Kakashi asks.

     “What?” It takes Sakura a minute, “Oh! This is Takeshi-san, he’s my date,” She turns back towards Takeshi to pull him into the fray. His eyes are wide and she can tell by the way he suddenly stands with his hands plastered to his thighs that he’s nervous.

     “You don’t say,” There’s a gleam in Kakashi’s eye, implication of which she doesn’t like one bit. She slaps his arm, and while Kakashi bears it and grins with his one eye crinkled smile, Takeshi lets out an actual squeak. Inner sighs.

     “Takeshi-san, this is Hatake Kakashi-sensei, he was my genin instructor and is my current team captain. Kakashi-sensei, this is Chita Takeshi-san, my date,”

     “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Takeshi says stretching out his hand in a handshake that Kakashi ignores by not bothering to pull his arms from his pockets.

     It’s not that Kakashi is rude, but hands are a shinobi’s best weapon. He’s just met this kid.

     Takeshi awkwardly brings his hand down.

     “Likewise. Sakura-chan here didn’t say anything about a date,”

     “It was a fairly new development. Ino set us up a couple of days ago,”

     “Isn’t that interesting?” His voice is slightly bland and this time Sakura pinches her teacher with a hiss to be nice.

     “Sakura-san and I have been talking for a couple of hours, I would say we are having a good time,” Takeshi says, and Sakura smiles in encouragement. _Backbone, backbone, he needs a backbone_ Inner is singing in her head and Sakura tries to squish her down. He’s a nice boy who has good intentions and won’t hurt her and is exactly what she needs right now—comfort, and stability with no complications.

     “Well then I’m sorry that I have to break it up,” Kakashi says, and turns more towards Sakura “Tsunade says you’re getting a bit stir crazy and not leaving the hospital when told,”

     “You did _not_ just come here to lecture me,”

     “I didn’t, I’m here to take you on a mission,”

     “Really?!” Missions with just her and Kakashi were a rare commodity. With his duties as ANBU lieutenant and advisor to Tsunade, along with Sakura’s jam packed training schedule and hospital shifts, scheduling Team 7 missions (or what remained of Team 7) was a feat in itself. Their last mission together ended up being a lousy D rank where they ran around the village trying to catch Tora in the 2 hours they had between duties, and that was a couple of months ago. (In all honesty it wasn’t that lousy. She got to pretend that Team 7 was whole for a couple of hours, and pretend that she and Kakashi split from Naruto and Sasuke who were trying to catch the cat in a different part of the village. It was a bit jarring to submit the mission report and the cat without them, but that’s what happens when—.)

     “B rank, here’s the scroll. I need to check something over, but we leave in 2 hours,”

     Sakura takes the scroll and is about to unseal it before she remembers herself, and who she’s with.

     “Ah, Takeshi-san, I’m so sorry that this keeps happening,”

     “It’s no problem Sakura-san,” He says sheepishly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Duty calls, right?”

     Sakura manages a smile, but is ultimately relieved that the date is over. He once again hesitates before giving her a kiss on the cheek, but she’s sure his hesitation is due to the fact that Kakashi is staring right at them a few feet away.

     “I’ll visit you at your bakery when I get back, Magnolia Street right?”

     “Yeah! I’ll see you soon then, Sakura-san,”

     “Thank you for the wonderful time, Takeshi-san,”

* * *

 

     Once Takeshi disappears, and Kakashi poofs away, Sakura hightails to her apartment to check the scroll. She inserts a chakra thread and breaks the seal, de-activating the exploding tag trap reserved for unqualified eyes.

     The mission is relatively simple, even if the actual task puts a weird feeling in her stomach. She and Kakashi are to go to the location where ANBU Team 1 was ambushed, the team she treated that night in the OR, and check and liquidate any and all remaining evidence of the fight. Another team had been there a few days ago to check things over, but one last check was needed to fully confirm that the place was as good as new. It’s essentially busy work, but it’s busy work with Kakashi, so she doesn’t mind.

     Sakura grabs a sealing scroll and her begins to pack. She has the basics, a spare change of clothes, bandages, her medical pouch, a spare set of kunai and a whet stone to sharpen them. She packs an additional scroll on neurological ticks she’s been meaning to read for when they’re resting, and a various assortment of weaponry. She has her katana at her side, her kunai in their pouch, along with senbon and ninja wire dispersed throughout her person. She packs an emergency canteen of water and a package of soldier pills along with a special brand of Akimichi pills that she got from Chouji’s father as a gift once for patching him back up. The routine of packing is ingrained, and the job is done quick with no wasted movements.

     Sakura pauses after she has everything packed away in the scroll, and sees only the small glass bottle left on her living room table.

     She has to take them with her. Not all of them of course, but she needs enough to last the duration of the mission, if not more, if something happens to go wrong. She’s so close to being off of them. So close, but not close enough that she can quit cold turkey. She still needs a solid 2, almost 3 months to be down to an almost negligible dose.

     However, she _is_ due to cut back a couple of milligrams in a couple of days, but the dose she’s going down to requires her to cut the pills herself. That’s not possible on a mission, meaning she has no choice but to assume that in the next couple of days she’ll be on 50mg, the size of one pill. That’s an entire 25mg lower than she has been used to, and an entire 20mg lower that she’s supposed to be on. She’s about to be playing with fire.

     It’s not something she has the luxury of lingering over though. Kakashi waits for her at the gates, and after saying goodbye to Izumo and Kotetsu, they head out. They don’t speak as they run, only enjoy the whoosh of leaves passing by and the solid wood of branches under their feet. There’s an unspoken agreement that they travel quick, and then rest when they’ve made camp. There’s no point in ambling through the forest for a stroll, that’s not what they’re being paid to do.

     Camp is made just before sundown. Sakura takes it upon herself to use a fire jutsu for their campfire. It’s not her strong suit, at all, but Kakashi got the wood, and set up camp, and found water while Sakura focused on practicing a jutsu completely opposite to her earth and water natures. Eventually, with way too much chakra spent, Sakura manages a small but controlled fire jutsu to light their campfire. Kakashi only tells her after, how she could’ve done better. They read in silence, traps set around them and a fire going merrily. Sakura takes her first lowered dose, crosses her fingers and hopes to the gods that nothing outwardly shitty that she’s read about concerning tapering will happen to her.

     Sakura wakes up with her mouth dry, her limbs heavy, and her stomach rebelling. The general feeling of malaise doesn’t leave when she drinks some water, eats a ration bar, and punches a few rocks. She doesn’t want to tell Kakashi. She’s fine, they neither need to slow down their pace, nor does she need him to worry.

     They arrive at the clearing at noon. Before the confrontation, the current clearing was densely wooded like the forest around them. Even now with the debris removed and earth remolded, Sakura can still see the scars of a battle on the trees around them. It’s not something any ANBU team can fully fix, only something that time can heal over.

     “Here?” Sakura asks, pulling her gloved fingers over the scars in the bark. She feels a pang of nausea as the sun beats down on her head, and moves closer to the trunk of the tree to get away from the sun. She felt just a little bit better after taking another too low dose, but the symptoms are starting to hit hard.

     Kakashi hums his assent. “The ANBU team before us should’ve already covered everything, but if you notice anything outwardly out of the ordinary, let me know,”

     Sakura stays silent, suddenly focused on not vomiting.

 

     “Are you up for a game?” Kakashi asks, a little while after. They’ve found nothing, testament to the thoroughness of the ANBU team before them.

     “Depends, Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura sits down on the grass and pretends it was entirely of her own volition.

     “By how much?” He asks, fixing her with a stare she can’t lie to.

     “25mg.”

     Kakashi is unimpressed, and flips a page of his Icha-Icha in dissatisfaction. “Sakura,”

     “I couldn’t help it. The appropriate dosage is in fractions of pills that I have. I can’t as well cut up antidepressants on this boulder,” she gestures to the boulder she’s moved to lean against. The rock is cool, and helps to ease the nausea. Kakashi looks down at her from the branch he’s sitting in with his book.

     “We’ll play a non-active game then. Although as captain consider this a reprimand for not being in adequate shape for a mission and potentially putting your teammate in danger,” he says it lightly, but there’s enough steel in it to count as a reprimand.

     “Do you think I don’t know that? I’d be off these pills tomorrow if I could be,” Sakura spits, feeling ready to vomit.

     “Aww, Sakura-chan, look at you getting testy,”

     “Kakashi-sensei, what’s the game. Tell me before something bad happens to you,”

     Kakashi’s eye moves up to show his amusement, but relents. “We’ll go over chakra sensing. A competition of sorts to see who is able to sense more accurately and at which distance,”

     “I have you beat in this one,”

     “That’s what you think, Sakura-chan. This old man still has some juice in him,”

     “That’s gross, Kakashi-sensei,”

     “Ready?” Kakashi asks, and Sakura closes her eyes and stretches out her chakra sense. It gets pretty far, she’s pleased to note, and since she’s not moving, her stomach isn’t rebelling.

     “What’s the furthest thing you can sense?”

     “You first Kakashi-sensei,”

     “The outskirts of a town,”

     “Told you I’d beat you. I sense the entire town, relatively small, around 100 villagers,” Sakura says, probing around the surrounding area.

     “Main square, describe it.”

     “Around 15 people on it. Seems to be a fountain in the center? Or a statue of some sort, people are walking around it,”

     “That’s a 4 kilometer radius you have there. Can you stretch it?”

     “There’s wildlife on the other side of the town. There are some deer? Rabbits definitely, and—,” her breath hitches. Fuck.

     “Sakura?”

     Fuck. There’s a signature, two chakra signatures, vicious and boiling.

     “Sakura.”

     “Kakashi-sensei, they’re coming. It’s them, heading for the town,”

     “Who? Sakura, I can’t sense that far. Who is it?”

     Bad luck follows Team 7 whenever it steps foot out of the village.

     Sakura’s eyes shoot open, feeling a rush of adrenaline and fear in her veins.

     “Orochimaru, Kabuto,”

     Kakashi doesn’t swear, but he might as well have.

     “Orders, Captain,” Sakura asks, standing, and trying to still the tremors in her fingers that could be from her tapering or could be from fear. Either way, she should’ve brought the proper fucking dose. She’s a fucking idiot.

     “We head north, then turn east and make our way back down south to Konoha. We’re out-classed.”

     “Yes, sir,”

     Even now, looking in the physical world, with the ground solid beneath her feet it’s too easy to sense out their chakras. Orochimaru’s, cold, gigantic, and slithering as if it has a mind of it’s own. Even two miles from their position she can feel the almost sticky nature as it writhes around his person. Kabuto’s is less sticky. It’s—it’s familiar. She hates that it is. The green, almost blue of his chakra is clean cut, something she’s grown to be familiar with, with Tsunade’s and Shizune’s chakra that same clean, and precise nature. All the medic-nin have some version of that chakra, self-purifying and precise. Where Shizune’s is more acidic, not in taste but impression, and Tsuande’s is more earthy, Kabuto’s is—metallic. Something in it brings the taste of iron to her lips. It’s all too unpleasant.

     They set off north immediately. Sakura feels the burn in her lungs from the pace, but makes no move to complain or slow down. They’re outclassed, horribly. While Kakashi is at full strength, she is barely at a 70%. Absolutely not fighting material for Bingo Book entries.

     Sakura feels them change trajectories, and forces herself to keep breathing. “They’re headed north-east now,”

     Kakashi immediately changes their path directly east until they’ve circled around the town.

     Sakura’s calves begin to burn from the effort of keeping an ANBU level pace, but the adrenaline is pushing her on. There’s no way Kabuto, if not Orochimaru have disregarded or not sensed them in that clearing. No chance in hell.

     They’re getting closer, 4 kilometers, 3, 2, 1. There’s no choice but to turn around and face them the only way they can.

     Kakashi summons Pakkun.

     “Get back to Konoha, let them know we’re making contact with Orochimaru and Kabuto,”

     “Boss, are you sure?”

     “ _Go_ , Pakkun,”

     The dog bounds off and Kakashi and Sakura stop.

     “Take another dose,” Kakashi says, and Sakura is about to protest before common sense wins over and she scrambles to find her small bottle.

     “Hold your ground,” he says, Sharingan eye exposed to the world.

     “Yes, sir,” Sakura says, and tries to force some courage into her limbs. She can’t cower now.

     She feels her traitorous knees grow weak from the weight of their combined chakra as they stop in front of them. They’re far enough away to avoid a taijutsu battle, but still close enough to confidently sail a kunai.

     “You’re right, Kabuto. It _is_ Hatake Kakashi,” Orochimaru’s voice is smooth, but has a texture to it that makes it gruff, as if he’s always keeping himself from coughing.

     Kakashi raises his hand in a mock salute. “Yo, fancy seeing you here,” Kakashi is stiff as a board, but with every passing second his stance is softening. His shoulders are relaxing and the beat of his chakra, and even his heart, Sakura would wager, is slowing. She’s rarely had the pleasure of seeing Kakashi fight full-out, but she has sparred with him, and sometimes, very rarely, does she get him to a point where a battle calm begins to settle on him. If she weren’t trying to calm herself for a fight, she’d be taking notes.

     Both ninja in front of them watch his movements warily. They’ve noticed his transition as well.

     “I remember the pink one, that’s Sasuke-kun’s dear teammate,” Kabuto speaks, and while she wants to protest his derision, knows that it’s in her best interest if they underestimate her.

     Orochimaru grins, mouth pulling up to reveal sharp teeth. “Dear Sasuke-kun’s teammate, you must’ve been there when I gifted him with a cursed seal,”

     Sakura bites her tongue to keep from speaking. The taste of iron is sharp, even when she swallows.   

     “Pity he couldn’t make it. I’m sure he would’ve loved to test out his new skills,” Orochimaru says, smirk curving even sharper. “He’s progressed in leaps and bounds, you know, much faster than he would have under Konoha, under you Hatake,”

     Kakashi doesn’t say anything, and neither does Sakura, as much as she wants to.

     “He doesn’t have any teammates this time to bring him down. No unwieldly jinchuuriki making a mess of things, or a pesky civilians with a famous crush and no other qualities to recommend her,”

     Before Sakura can say anything to defend herself, Kakashi finally responds. “Konoha values teamwork above the individual. It’s what makes us a strong village,”

     “It’s what makes you weak,” Orochimaru states, the smirk turning into a sneer. “I heard you’re apprenticed under the infamous Tsunade, little mouse,”

     Sakura is restraining Inner at this point.

     “What has she taught you, to heal a cut? fetch her alcohol? fill out paperwork?” Kabuto mocks and Sakura can’t keep her mouth shut.

     “And what are you doing? Digging up graves and collecting body parts for your master? Sitting by a fireplace and sewing them together like a housewife?”

     Sakura feels Kakashi wince, and Kabuto’s eyes grow colder.

     Orochimaru just laughs.

     “You civilian-born ninja are quite the joke.”

     The fury Sakura feels is indescribable. He’s only trying to get a rise out of her, and it’s _working_.

     Orochimaru’s smirk fades into a cold mask of indifference. “I feel I must make clear that no matter how many walks out of village you take, little mouse, your dear Sasuke-kun won’t come back to you. He has no need for clingy low life like you,”

     “I don’t give a shit about what that traitor needs,” Sakura growls.

     “Oh? Has little Sakura-chan’s crush turned into a bit of hate?” Kabuto mocks, and Sakura wants to punch him. Patronizing asshole.

     “Don’t bother with her, Kabuto. She’s worth no one’s time,”

     That… That tips her over, and with a shriek she launches herself at Orochimaru, fear be damned. They want a fight she’ll fucking give them a fight. Assholes.

     Her hands make purchase with his neck, and she digs her nails into the fragile skin. Heat erupts at her fingers as black blood seeps under her nails, and she digs deep and pulls. She feels his hands on her waist and expects the cold dig of metal and the painful breaking of skin, but when he just holds her in place, Sakura’s rational comes back to her. She’s too close, his face is inches from hers and she can smell the sourness of dried sweat and decomposing flesh. She’s too close; alarm bells like none she’s experienced before are ringing in her head as his hands hold her at her waist in the air, and now she’s struggling not to pull his esophagus from his neck, but to get away. Far, far away from this monster of a man.

     Through the panic she hears his voice, pitched just so only she can hear. “I’m not sure why Sasuke didn’t take you up on your offer. You’d be a good broodmare. Feisty, decently sized hips, breasts—,”

     Disgust and adrenaline and fear meld into a tsunami and her hands come down to his at her waist. She focuses her chakra into scalpels and cuts and cuts until he releases her. Her breath is coming in sharp gasps, and before she has a chance to flee, he backhands her.

     Sakura slams into a tree, and when that breaks at the force she goes careening into another. She knows by the way it’s suddenly difficult to breathe that he’s broken ribs, and those ribs have punctured her lungs. For a few seconds she can’t move, her body stunned from the impact and her brain trying to get her bearings. She doesn’t have time, and the shallow breaths she’s taking turn to bare gasps when she feels a strong slimy muscle wrap itself tight around her throat and jerk her in the air. His tongue is thick, and slimy, and has that same scent of decay. Her brain is beyond panic now, instinct trying to keep her alive as she struggles to release herself from his noose. Her vision is going fuzzy and no air makes it down to her punctured lungs.

     The pressure suddenly lessens, and she collapses unceremoniously onto the ground. Lungs burning, she gasps and coughs as the tongue twitches and falls away. Kakashi stands in front of her, shock of silver hair recognizable to Sakura’s fuzzy vision, his katana wet with the black that coats Orochimaru’s veins.

     Sakura stabs herself in the side with one of her thicker senbon, Inner piloting. The air, thank the gods, rushes back into her lungs, and while she has a few milliseconds to close the wound, she can do nothing for her ribs in this moment. There’s no time to plan, so she hopes Kakashi knows her well enough to jump out of the way once her fist, loaded with chakra meets the earth beneath them. The ground shatters into pieces and the monolithic trees go shifting down.

     Orochimaru gets lost in the dust, and Sakura sees Kakashi disappear after him. She has half a mind to follow them, but there’s a sudden painful tug on her wrist.

     “You’re mine,” Kabuto says, his glasses glinting as he raises his chin up in what could be construed as haughtiness. A chakra string, wrapped like a garotte wire around her wrist gets tighter until it breaks through her skin. It will take off her hand if she doesn’t do anything.

     She shoots a pulse of chakra, and the destructive interference is enough that the string evaporates, leaving her wrist dripping blood into her left palm. Each deep breath fires shoots pain up her ribs.

     “You’re a traitor,” Sakura sneers, and throws a barrage of kunai. Neither make their mark, yet Sakura, ignoring the pain in her ribs, moves forward to attack. Kabuto sends his own volley of metal, but Sakura is Tsunade’s student, and if anything, she’s learned to dodge. Each twist and turn is met with pain, but there’s no time to favor her ribs.

     “And you’re a little girl,” he says, and lunging, brings a blue chakra covered hand to her thigh as he blocks her oncoming kick. Sakura feels the bone creak and a long, vertical crack form on her femur. She yelps, and swings a chakra laden fist into his chest.

     A part of her hopes that’s the end, that her punch was strong enough to break ribs and crush diaphragms, and that now his heart is still. The other part watches him skid away, but then stand up, a bit shaky and obviously bloody, but barely injured. Blue chakra flickers away from his chest.

     “I don’t need to retreat to heal my wounds, Sakura-chan,”

     Her fist aches from the burst of chakra she expelled, and her leg is a menace to step on. Already a few minutes in and things aren’t looking good. Before he has a chance to retaliate, Sakura weaves one of the earth jutsu Kakashi taught her, and pulls him down into the dirt to just below his knees. Kunai drawn, she forces her way to his throat but at the last second his hands come up with chakra scalpels blocking her strike. Another millisecond and Sakura sticks a kunai deep into his thigh and receives an icy deep cut from a scalpel between her ribs in retaliation.

     Blood rushes in her ears as she darts around him, still encased partially in dirt, forcing senbon deep into his skin and wreaking havoc on him with her own chakra scalpels. Blue chakra is still forming around his injuries, and while he takes the damage she doles out he doesn’t keep it. With an infuriated screech she gives him a chakra laden punch to the side. The force of it, and the fact that his knees are above the ground and in no way secure, result in a break that Sakura hears even from the cacophony of her own heartbeat. He flies, wrenched from the ground, and rolls to a stop. Even then, Sakura is loathe to let him be, since she already sees that blasted blue chakra healing his shattered knees without him even bringing a hand to them.   

     As she approaches with the intent of slicing his throat while he’s down, his arm comes up and grabs her, and after an intense flash of pain, her fingers stop working. The spontaneity catches her off guard, and she has no time to dodge the kick he swings around. He hits her hip before she can block it, and with another white hot flash of pain, she isn’t able to move it either. Sakura stumbles, leg giving way and he grabs her other arm, pulling her down so he can pull himself up. She almost makes contact with the ground, but a chakra scalpel adds some resistance as it digs into her side and slices through her viscera and kidney in one fell swoop. This time Sakura’s shriek is more of a gurgle as blood bubbles up her throat.

     He flips her so she’s on her back and barely getting air. While she’s stunned he pulls another chakra scalpel through the muscle of her thigh. Distantly, Sakura realizes that it’s bone deep and parallel to the fracture he gave her, and distantly, she realizes that that cut is so close to her femoral artery. Sakura realizes with dismay that if he were to kill her, it wouldn’t be quick.

     Her left wrist is still in his grip, and with a grunt, and a foot to her chest, he dislocates it. The pull is sharp, unnatural, and mechanical, and at it Sakura gives a choked gasp, still stunned. Kabuto lets go of her arm and it falls limp, and painful to the ground. She’s so close to giving out.

     She hears his voice through a haze. “Let’s see, we have both legs taken care of, nerves cut on the left hip, and a fracture with a nice cut showcasing it on the right. We have a nice cut around your left wrist, you’ll bleed out of that soon, and that same arm is dislocated. Your right wrist is also out of commission, I cut the nerves on that as well…,”

     The pain is all encompassing, and it would be all too easy to let her brain shut down. She can’t though, if she goes under now she might never come back up. With uncoordinated jerks that Kabuto thankfully mistakes for the jerking of a girl in agony (which she is), Sakura forces the clean sides of the senbon she’d coated in Suna mystery poison through the palm of her right hand. She can’t move her hand, even if she can feel it, and scrounging up the last of her strength forces her arm up and shoves the senbon into his femoral artery where it’s prime and visible from where he’s stepping on her chest. She feels the metal go in, but also feels the senbon poke through the other side of her hand.

     “You _bitch_!” Kabuto curses, forcing himself away from her but taking the senbon with him. They jerk out of her hand and stay embedded in his thigh. She doesn’t even know what’s in that Suna poison, she hadn’t the chance to figure it out.

     Sakura blacks out.

     Only for a second, since she’s forced back into consciousness by a kick to the face and another jerk as she’s flipped over again on to her stomach. A foot digs into her spine as Kabuto peels her back by her hair, and gives her an injury she knows startlingly well; she’d operated on this injury. 5 cuts, down the both sides of the roots of C5, C6, C7, C8, and T1. Right at the base of her cervical curve. With a pained groan her arms go limp and she can no longer control them. She can’t move her leg, she can’t move her arms—all she can do is endure the pain.

     He lets her drop, and with no arms to catch herself with Sakura’s face makes direct impact with the ground. With a sharp crack, Sakura feels her nose break, and blacks out again.

     Once again, it’s only for a cruel second as Kabuto steps onto the back of her injured thigh. His foot makes her open wound dig into the earth, forcing a scream out of her. It’s only barely muffled by the dirt in her mouth.

     “I would kill you right here, little girl, but you seem to have gained some luck. I don’t know what the fuck you stuck me with, but watch your back your next time out of the village,”  He gives her another parting grind to her injured thigh before he vanishes.

     Sakura, delirious from the pain and panicked from not being able to use her limbs, prays to the gods that the poison she gave him will make his eyes bleed, his mouth foam and his lungs close up. She prays that he dies a nasty, furious death, knowing it was a _little girl_ that felled him.

     Pain thrums in a dull thud, and while Sakura is apathetic, listening to her own wheezes. Inner is screeching, and making up for her apathy in full. Those few moments, Sakura has no clue what to do. It went so quickly, one second she had him, and the next she’s laying in the dirt with her blood pouring out in rivers and unable to move, but able to feel every single fire of her nerves. She got too cocky, her inexperience got a hold of her and she rushed in without fully thinking, and she suffered for it. He did too, but he has a technique she has no experience with on his side, and all she has is her own chakra and Creation Rebirth a well in her forehead.

     She can still think, though, and that was the prerequisite to if she can use Creation Rebirth or not. If she can think, and make any modicum of effort to heal her injuries, she’s to do it, and if she cannot, and pain is pulling her in a haze where her chakra just won’t cooperate, then she can use the technique. She’s glad she can think and also not.

     Dirt and blood coat the inside of her mouth. When she tries to swallow back the blood that’s trickling up from her stomach, the grit forces her to gag. Adrenaline still pumps fast through her veins, and it’s difficult to breathe. Her chest is tight, and each inhale makes her side burn and her ribs to scream in protest. She can’t breathe through her nose, and she either has to keep spitting or swallowing down the blood. Inner is slowly losing it, and Sakura can tell that she is minutes away from a panic attack. She can’t move. She can’t move. Never has she felt so vulnerable and _broken_. She could choke on dirt, she could be eaten by bears, she could suffocate, her nerves might be permanently damaged, she might never be able t—Kakashi.

     The name hits her like a lightning bolt and forces two conflicting sides into one. Inner has lost the frantic panic, and Outer is no longer struck with apathy.

_Kakashi._

     Kakashi. Where is he? If Kabuto left then Orochimaru must have left as well. They left so suddenly, why would they? Where is he? _Where is he!?_

Pain, while all encompassing and wholly distracting, is nothing compared to the fear she feels now.

     “Kakashi,” It comes out more as a quiet gurgle, and much less the loud shout she wants it to be. “Kakashi,”

     Through the haze of pain and slow encroaching panic, she senses him. He’s there, his chakra signature is weak but it’s _moving._ That’s all she cares about, and trying to use her single leg that she has control over, tries to flip herself over, turn herself so she can get closer.

     It’s fruitless work. All she does is aggravate her injuries, get more dirt in her mouth, and writhe like a worm.

     “Kakashi,”

     He’s suddenly there, and the pain in her chest works its way to the open. Her eyes burn from the sting of sting of tears, and wrenched gasp she lets out is a sob. “Kakashi,”

     He’s silent, but he’s working to carefully flip her around on her back.

     “Kakashi, I’m sorry,” She gets out between a groan of pain. Her eyes are hot, and her breathing comes out in ragged sobs. “I’m so sorry, Kakashi. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please. Kakashi, I’m so sorry, I’m—” She cuts off when he lifts her.

     “Put me down, Kakashi,” she moans, pain excruciating as he takes several wobbly steps, and then slams shoulder first into a tree. Sakura can’t hold back the scream as he rights himself.

     “Kakashi, please put me down,”  He doesn’t. Her leg is on fire, so is her side. The edges of her vision are slowly blurring now that the adrenaline is wearing off. The pain gets worse without the adrenaline.

     “Kakashi,” she gurgles again. He doesn’t answer her.

     His steps are heavy, almost dragging, and he makes it two feet before Sakura’s legs knock against the trunk of a tree and Kakashi barely manages to hold them upright. She can’t see with the blinding burst of pain.

     “Put me _down, Kakashi. Put me down! PUT ME DOWN!_ ” Her screech is shrill and metallic, so high and right in his ear that he finally reacts.

     There’s a hitch to his breath and Sakura is mercifully lowered to the ground. Forcing air into her lungs she tries to calm down. Kakashi is with her. He’s fine, she’ll be fine.

     “Kakashi, my pack. My medical pack. Get it.” Sakura swallows down more blood that trickled onto her lips from her broken nose. Her eyes are still hot, and breathing is still difficult.

     He does as told, movements sharp, but there’s a blankness to his gaze that Sakura has never seen before. He holds her pack in his hands.

     “Bandages. The dark red pills. Get them out.”

     He doesn’t move, and Sakura feels a wave of worry.

     “Kakashi. Now. Get them out.”

     The bottle of pills is soon in his hands but the dots aren’t connecting. Sakura is trying to keep the horror from her face.

     “Water. Give the pills to me. Give the water to me.”

     He presses the bottle and canister into her unresponsive hands lying limply by her side.

     A sob that was building in her throat wrenches to the open. “Kakashi, please. Please Kakashi, snap out of it. _Please_ ,”

     He doesn’t answer her, just stares blankly over her shoulder. Her tears make it hard to see.

     “Kakashi. This is an order. Put the pills in my mouth, pour some water in my mouth.”

     That gets him moving. With water and blood dribbling down her chin, she tries again.

     “Kakashi, please,”

     Nothing.

     Forcing a shaky, painfully deep breath into her, she does the only thing she can do.

     It’s harder to heal herself without the direct contact of her hands against a wound. She has to concentrate, and concentrate hard to make sure her healing chakra cooperates at the site and does what she wants it to do. She’s never done something so complicated.

     She starts with her kidney—her sliced open side and makes sure the internal organ is in working order. She stops most of the bleeding, but lets the wound hang open. She needs to save chakra.

     “Kakashi, get the needle and thread from the medical pack,”

     He complies.

     “Thread it,”

     He complies.

     “Pinch the wound in my side closed, and stitch it up as you would a hole in your pants,”

     She doesn’t know what stitching he knows, and even if it’s a hack job it’s better than nothing.

     He complies. His fingers slip and slide on the blood coating her side, but eventually he grasps the two flaps of flesh. She still feels them, burning, and watches as he pulls together the flaps and pulls a needle through her skin.

     Sakura winces at the first stitch, and considering his lack of expertise: “at least 2 stitches per centimeter, Kakashi,”

     It’s slow work, and Sakura feels with aching clarity the way her skin pulls under the needle. The pain is less now, now that the painkillers are beginning to do their job, and that her side isn’t open to the cool air.

     While he works on stitching up her side, she focuses on the mess that’s her only working limb. The cut is parallel to her femur and fucking _deep_. She can see the pink of bone covered in blood and sees the crack Kabuto had made. It’s filthy, grit deep in the wound. Asshole. The _fucking_ Asshole. She hopes he dies _screaming_.

     She can’t do much for the bone other than attach chakra braces to keep the fracture from spreading before doing her best to reknit the muscle around it. It’ll need stitches as well.

     While Kakashi finishes with her side, she stops the bleeding from her left wrist. He’ll have to stitch that for her as well.

     When she tells Kakashi to move onto her leg, she focuses on fixing her nose. She stops the blood, but Tsunade or Shizune will have to reset it for her, her shoulder as well.

     Sakura tries to reattach her severed nerves, but the effort it takes proves too much, too complex for her mind that’s largely focusing on the pain. She has to abandon the notion that she’ll be able to lift her arm, or wiggle a finger until Tsunade or Shizune get to her.

     With the painkillers doing their job, Sakura finds the concentration in her to numb her somatosensory cortex. It’s dangerous, not being able to feel pain, but at this point it’s all she feels and she needs some sort of reprieve.

     Kakashi bandages her stitches; he can do no more than that. When she examines him with a significant decrease in her own senses, never mind the panic at her vulnerability at not being able to move, she’s relieved that he doesn’t seem to be on the verge of death.

     He’s banged up, his chakra is low and dropping lower. There’s a slice down his shoulder blade where Orochimaru must’ve managed to land a hit, and a decent amount of shallow cuts. What concerns her the most is the blood trailing down from his Sharingan eye. No, Mangekyou. It’s his Mangekyou eye, and it’s not fading even after the battle. She knows, he’s told her that he’s already got the Mangekyou eye, but to see it, and to see the blood pouring freely from the socket and his chakra levels to drop dramatically as the parasitic doujutsu…

     “Kakashi, deactivate the Mangekyou,”

     It takes a second, but he manages it, and while the blood doesn’t stop flowing from his socket, it is less now than it was before. The pinwheel spins lazily, before it morphs into three tomoe. She stares at the eye until it stops whirling.

     “Close the eye, Kakashi, please, close it,”

     He does, and he looks more like the Kakashi she’s used to. The look in his other eye though. It’s blank, and that blankness terrifies her.

     “Kakashi,”

     “…”

     “Kakashi,”

     “…”

     “Kakashi, I’m alive,”

     There’s a brief flicker of recognition but it vanishes the second it appears.

     “Kakashi, I’m alive. I’m—” Her voice breaks. “I’m alright,”

     He’s still mute, and Sakura tries to keep her tears from spilling quicker.

     “Kakashi, get us home,”

* * *

 

     The journey back is—she doesn’t remember much of it. Kakashi is still out of it. He is not the man she knows, but a shadow of the ANBU operative he’s told her stories about. He follows orders down to the letter, but nothing beyond that.

     Sakura can tell, by the way that her torso sometimes falls downwards before Kakashi catches her again, that his shoulder blade is giving him more pain than he’s showing. They need to get home. While he’s running, Sakura tries to concentrate on focusing her chakra into her cheek so that she can channel it through his body to heal his shoulder blade. She manages it, but it takes too long. Her control is slipping with the blood she loses, but after a while Kakashi is able to hold her steady, even if the wound is still open.

     The pace Kakashi sets is hard. It pulls at her stitches, and she feels the wet heat from her wounds as blood soaks through her bandages. The blood loss, while slow, still makes her woozy, and her vision fuzzy, and to get away from the vulnerability Sakura wants to pass out. Sakura’s panic is still there, a tumultuous vortex in the back of her mind, but for the sake of their unimpeded journey home she shuts it away.

     The light hearted journey they made there in two days takes him 4 hours at breakneck speed. The landmarks soon grow achingly familiar, and the Eastern Gates rise up tall and magnificent in front of them. At this point, Sakura is more focused on breathing, and staying awake than to notice that Kakashi makes loops through the forest as if he were dissuading a tail.

     Izumo and Kotetsu are there at the gates, and at the sight of them follow procedure as they’ve done thousands of times over. Sakura doesn’t say a word, and neither does Kakashi, but at the sight of the familiar view of the village stretching out beyond the gates his knees buckle a bit before he steadies and slows his pace.

     “Gods, Pakkun said you might come in bad, but the fuck?” Kotetsu asks, and hands reached out, tries to take Sakura from him.

     As soon as Kotetsu’s hands make contact with Sakura’s skin, Kakashi jumps back as if he’s been burned, and opens his Sharingan eye.

     Sakura is too out of it, the lack of blood making her too dizzy to focus on anything outside of herself, but she sees the Sharingan eye and feels the fresh stream of blood pour onto her cheeks.

     “Kakashi, no. _No_. Turn it off. Close the eye, _Kakashi_ ,”

     Kotetsu is frozen, purposefully not making eye contact. Izumo is there by his side, eyeing Sakura in her teacher’s arms warily. Sakura feels the blister of wary chakras.

     “Kakashi, this is an order, _close the eye._ ”

     Kotetsu softens his tensed stance as Kakashi shuts his eye.

     “Kakashi-san, Sakura-san, we’re going to help you get to the hospital,” Izumo says, his hands raised and placating. Sakura barely hears him, but she’s sure Kakashi doesn’t at all.

     “Go Kakashi, follow them. Get us to the hospital,”

     Kakashi doesn’t move, even with Kotetsu and Izumo standing to one side of the gates. Even with his eye closed, blood still spills onto her cheek.

     “Kakashi. Get us to the hospital. Get Tsunade,” Her voice is hoarse, the effects of Orochimaru’s tongue around her neck now in effect. She shuts her eyes, the light becoming too much. All she can feel is the heat from his blood on her cheek.

     He steps forward, and she releases a painful breath. While she’s still conscious and has some semblance of control over her chakra, Sakura denumbs the part of her brain she numbed before to ease the pain.

     It comes back with a white hot burst that forces consciousness into her. With a hitch of her breath and a low whine she can feel the burn of her thigh and side, and the painful stretch of skin against amateur stitches.

     As if in response to her new sensation, Kakashi speeds up, and in seconds they’re at the hospital doors, pushing into the emergency section.

     There, they’re accosted. There’s a brief second of inactivity when Kakashi bursts through the door, bloodied and blank, with Sakura messy and limp and whining without consciously realizing it, until the previously quiet emergency room erupts into a cacophony of activity.

     A bed is brought in, and already there are nurses with green covered hands ready for damage control. Two nurses run up ready to take Sakura from his arms, but a furious growl and the reopening of his Sharingan stops them in their tracks. There are efforts to step forward, but Kakashi backs up against the wall like a cornered dog. The force of his back impacting the wall jolts Sakura hard, and she lets out ragged gasp of pain. It’s so much worse now that she can feel everything.

     “Kakashi, Kakshi, Kashi. Givemetothenurses. Kashiplease,”

     Someone calls for a Sharingan user.

     “Kashiplease. Ithurtsplease, let them _fix me_.”

     There’s no response.

     “Kashi, you don’t have to let me go—just put me down on the bed—let them touch me, pleaseKashi—they need to.”

     That forces a step from him. Sakura sobs in relief, or the possibility of it in the near future.

     “On the bedKashi,hold my hand and don’ let go, ok?”

     Another step. And then another. And she’s being lowered gently into the cot. Kakashi’s hand firmly holding hers even though she can barely feel it.

     “Tsunade—Get me to Tsunade,”

     At that point no one is listening to her. With Kakashi semi-backed down, even if he is still regarding everyone with an active Sharingan, the nurses are working on forcing IV tubes into her arms.

     The sound around her is muffled, like she’s drowning and the sound can barely reach her. Her blurred vision only lets her see the bright fluorescent lights above her.

     There’s more commotion, and suddenly she can feel chakra entering her system, chakra that isn’t hers, chakra that’s too many beats off her ever changing frequency and she freaks out.

     The feeling, the nausea that she had experienced when Tsunade had healed her was nothing compared to the less precise chakra of the nurses in damage control. Where Sakura felt invaded, she now feels forced out of her own body. Pushed and prodded from all sides and shaken violently. Her chakra isn’t the master here, and she can’t physically move away. She’s stuck to the ministrations of foreign chakra as it wreaks havoc on her system.

     She can’t do anything but scream. Back arching, she lets out a painful shriek that lasts long and thrashes any body part she can. Anything. Anything to get the chakra out of her. It works, to some extent, and when the chakra leaves, all that’s left is pain.

     Turning her head, she sees the spinning pinwheel of Kakashi’s Mangekyou. Sakura can’t tell him to stop because there’s too much going on, she can’t, she can’t move, she can’t speak. Her mind is a mess and her body isn’t letting her _pass out_.

     There are few painful moments where she hears a scuffle and the fall of a body. She isn’t sure whose since all she can focus on is Kakashi’s Mangekyou eye and the agony that had just ripped through her. She’s hyperventilating, Inner is screeching in her ears and there’s too much. Too much.

     A pair of Sharingan red eyes blocks her stare at Kakashi’s, and she passes out.

* * *

 

     Sakura wakes to the beeping of monitors. The air flows fluidly into her lungs when her eyes open to the glare of fluorescent lights. The beeping speeds up as panic grips her lungs, and in seconds a nurse has upped her pain medication.

     She passes out.

* * *

 

     The next time she wakes, it’s to Tsunade’s voice. More expectant of the fluorescent lights this time around, Sakura peels her eyes open, and sees her and Shizune standing by Kakashi’s bed.

     “You’re finally awake,” Tsunade says, and it’s relieved. Not daring to move, Sakura tries to wiggle her fingers. The wave of relief she feels is almost choking as she feels her fingers flex over the stiff hospital sheets.

     “Everything should be working, Sakura,” Shizune says, walking over and gently lifting her hand. Sakura feels the appendage rise, and flexing, lifts it from Shizune’s hands. There are a few moments where Sakura revels in the control she has over her own body. Eventually, after getting her fill of bending her own appendages she sits up, and curls her legs into herself. She manages it with a wince, the delicate red skin of her right thigh protesting at too much movement.

     “How long was I out?” Sakura asks, her voice croaking. Shizune passes her a glass of water, and she takes it in her hands, demonstrating to Tsunade that there have been no complications with the reattachment of nerves to her brachial plexi, and that she can pick up a cup.

     “Two days,” Tsunade says, and Sakura almost chokes on the water.

     She swallows, “ _Two?”_

     “You woke once in post-op, but it was too soon for you to be up, so the nurse knocked you out. You’ve been sleeping since then.” Shizune says, taking the empty cup of water from her hands.

     “And Kakashi-sensei?”

     “Here, Sakura-chan,” he pipes up, and Sakura quickly turns her head to look at him. He’s sitting in his ninja gear in the hospital bed, instead of the hospital frock she’s in.

     Anxiety sticks itself in her throat as Sakura jerks up and tries to climb out to check on him. Shizune holds her down.

     “Stay, Sakura, you’ll be able to move in a couple of hours, but for now, please stay,” Her voice is soothing, and Sakura glances at her worriedly before turning towards Kakashi.

     “I’m alright, Sakura-chan, this old man still has some juice left,”

     “That’s gross, Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura says, but the words don’t hold the childishness they usually do, instead falling flat and relieved. However, physically, at first glance, he does seem to be alright. His hitai-ate is placed firmly over his Sharingan, and the cuts and bruising she’d seen on him before are gone. His shoulder must be bandaged, but she doesn’t see it under his clothes.

     “What do you remember?”

     Sakura turns her head sharply towards Tsunade, and closes her mouth. She purses her lips, takes a deep breath, and after a pause to collect her thoughts, speaks.

     “Kakashi and I encountered Orochimaru and Kabuto. We tried to avoid them but ended up making contact, resulting in a fight. I—,” Sakura grimaces, the memory coming back to her. “I lost my temper and made the first move on Orochimaru.”

     “Don’t tell me you fought the man, Sakura,” Tsunade warns, and Sakura shakes her head.

     “No, after some—,” Sakura feels disgust well in her to the point she wants to vomit, “conversation, Kakashi and I switched opponents. He took Orochimaru, I took Kabuto. They ended the fight by leaving for an unknown reason, and Kakashi stitched my injuries together. I managed to stop the bleeding on his shoulder blade, but wasn’t able to do anything for his eye since I couldn’t use my arms, and it took too much concentration to heal without my hands. He carried us back to Konoha. Izumo and Kotetsu—I remember—were at the gates and tried to take me from him? I was starting to lose it by that point. We got to the hospital, and I know they tried to heal me but I panicked, and after that someone knocked me out.”

     Sakura stretches out her legs, and then her arms.

     “Izumo and Kotetsu did meet you at the gates. Once you got back and into the hospital Kakashi did not let you go. Some nurses did attempt to heal you, which resulted in your body vehemently rejecting it, the curse of impeccable chakra control. At that, I’m told, Kakashi attacked a nurse and put her in a Sharingan genjutsu,” she looks at Kakashi, gaze hard.

     He rubs his wrists, gaze off to the side with Icha-Icha on his lap. “I’ll apologize when I’m up,”

     Tsunade nods. She doesn’t blame him for the freak out, it’s a hazard of the profession; dealing with unstable ninja when they’re hurt.

     “While Kakashi still had you, someone called for an Uchiha to knock out Kakashi. Uchiha Itachi happened to be in the hospital—picking up Izumi, as I was told, from her shift. He knocked out Kakashi with his Sharingan, released the nurse from Kakashi’s genjutsu and knocked you out too. Shizune and I came down at that point, and took you to the OR. Here’s your chart,”

     Sakura takes her chart from Shizune, and flicks through the information. Family history, none, medications, none, weight, height—everything checks out when she’d filled out the forms. She flicks to the notes written in Shizune’s scrawl at the bottom.

     “You had a fracture on your femur—the cut revealing it was absolutely disgusting, you know, with all the dirt in it. You’ll need to take antibiotics to flush everything out of your system. Your wrist was cut down to the bone, we fixed that and stopped your bleeding. We finished healing up the cut to your side, and did it get to your kidney?”

     Sakura nods. “It was one of the first things I healed, but had Kakashi stitch the wound back up to save chakra,”

     “Good,” Tsunade says. “Your nose was broken as well?”

     “Healed that as well when I had the concentration for it,”

     Tsunade nods her head again, and continues. “Now your nerves, the most severe damage by far we’ve seen this week. We reattached those on your leg, and we reattached those cut on your brachial plexi. It should all be working properly,”

     Sakura nods, and bends her knees and elbows, wrists and fingers to demonstrate both to herself and to her mentors that everything is in working order.

     “I’m so glad you’re alright, Sakura,” Shizune says, and damning professional decorum throws her clipboard on the nightstand and envelops her into a hug.

     At the contact Sakura’s arms automatically come up to hug the older woman. She’s so glad to be back.

     “Me too,”

     When Shizune releases her, she’s a bit shaky and with a controlled breath, picks up the clipboard she discarded. Tsunade takes that moment to get closer to Sakura.

     She picks up Sakura’s hand and she has to restrain a fond smile that creeps to her lips as Tsuande tells her to make her fingers and wrists move for the nth time.

     “Don’t scare us like that again, Sakura,”

     “I’ll try not to, shishou,”

     The woman steps back, and putting her hands on her hips regards the two shinobi on the beds.

     “You’ll be discharged at around 5. There’s a standing appointment with a Yamanaka for you both to discuss what occurred on your mission—,”

     Kakashi interrupts.

     “That’s not necessary,”

     “It won’t be if Sakura says so. If you guys sort everything out on your own and Sakura considers it no longer necessary to have a certified Yamanaka present, then you won’t need to meet with him,”

     “Why does Sakura—?”

     “Because she is the more rational one when it comes to your health, mental, physical,”

     Kakashi leans back into his bed like a pouting child. Sakura looks over and mouths an apology.

     “Kakashi, you’re on medical leave for two weeks. Sakura, you are as well. No missions, no hospital shifts, is that understood?”

     “Yes, ma’am,”

     “Good. Your mission rank was changed from B to S. It is now considered classified, and shouldn’t be discussed with others. Mission reports are expected to be handed in directly to my desk t-48 hours from now.”

     “Yes, ma’am,”

     “Get some rest, you two,” she says, and both women leave the room.

     With an exhausted sigh, Sakura collapses into the bed. Without looking at him, gaze instead focused on the blank white wall in front of them, she asks.

     “Do you want to talk now?”

     “In a bit,”

     She hears the rustle of pages and relaxes. He has his Icha-Icha in his hands, at least he’s better. She doesn’t want to go into her own head right now, she feels strangely disconnected with silence around them. The silence stretches, interrupted only by the flutter of pages. There’s something she’s forgetting. She pulls the thin blanket around herself at the sudden chill.

 

     “Do you want to start?” Kakashi asks, and Sakura would snort at his attempt at evasion if the memories that floated up with painful clarity didn’t kill the mirth.

     “I’m sorry,” She says, her voice soft and gaze pointedly fixed at the wheel of his bed. She swallows, and forces her head up to look straight into Kakashi’s single open eye. “I’m sorry I provoked them. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have lost my temper, I shouldn’t have attacked, I should’ve fought better. We could’ve got out with way less of all this, but we didn’t and It’s my fault and I’m sorry, and I’ll do better, and I’m—”

     It starts spilling out before she can stop it, but Kakashi silences her with a single phrase.

     “It’s not your fault,”

     Sakura takes a shaky breath.

     “Orochimaru is an S-ranked ninja, Kabuto is an A; Both are in the bingo book. You are a chuunin, and while you have grown remarkably, they have years of experience on their side. They probably knew we were there way before we even considered sensing for them,”

     Sakura nods, but it doesn’t seem to convince him.

     “Repeat after me Sakura. It’s not my fault we got beat up by S-rank ninja,”

     That produces a teary snuffle, but they repeat, together.

     “It’s not my fault we got beat up by S-rank ninja,”

     They’re silent for a while.

     “You… You sort of freaked out on me there, Kakashi-sensei,”

     He hums, and flips a page in his Icha-Icha. Sakura tries.

     “Is that to do with—Is it related to what happened when—at—,"

     “Yes,” he puts her attempt at a sentence out of its misery. “And no. It’s—I’m sorry you had to see that,”

     Sakura shakes her head, immediately “It’s not your fault,”

     “You’re the only one left—it was—It’s—,”

     “I know, Kakashi-sensei,” she gives him the same courtesy, and puts his attempt at a sentence out of its misery.

     “We don’t really need to—we don’t need to have that appointment do we?” Sakura asks, but already knows what his answer is.

     “No,”

     “Good, my minds a bit of a mess right now without another person in it,”

     That brings something of a chuckle from him and Sakura considers it a success. They’re silent again.

 

      “You’ll visit Mikoto-san, if you need to, won’t you? You won’t be late?”

      “I might be late,”

      “I’ll come with you, for moral support,”

      “Alright,” Kakashi concedes, “If I go, you’ll come with me,”

      “Agreed,”

      Another flutter of pages.

      “You’ll visit her as well? Mikoto-san?”

      “Yeah—uh, yes, I will—I’m going to,”

      “Good,”

      That’s the end of that.

 

      Sakura takes a nap, and by an unspoken agreement Kakashi keeps watch. When she wakes they’re brought human food, and Sakura’s IVs are taken out. When the nurse leaves, Sakura stands shakily from the bed, legs weak from disuse, and moves to the visitor couches. She feels more in her element there, instead of the bed. She’s still cold, but chalks it up to the air conditioning.

      She stretches out her muscles almost mechanically, going through some light Academy katas, before moving on to the harder ones Kakashi has her practice. He’s still absorbed in his book, but every now and again he corrects her. Keeping herself focused on a task keeps the spacey-ness away; Kakashi’s pointers anchor her to the physical world.

      “I need to apologize. To the nurse,” he says, after they’ve been discharged and are making their way down the hallway.

     “I could use a walk,”

     Kakashi keeps her pace as she leads them slowly through the lesser used corridors and down the personnel staircase instead of the elevator. Once they reach the nurses’ desk, the girls fall silent.

     “Haruno-sama, we saw you got discharged, we’re very glad you’re ok now,”

     “Thank you, Haruhi,” Sakura says. “We wanted to know, who, and where—who—,”

     Kakashi interrupts. “We wanted to know where the girl that I put under genjutsu is. I need to apologize,”

     Haruhi glances at the other girls and Sakura bites her lip.

     “She’s in the back. I’ll let her know that you’re coming,”

     The girl takes them to the back, and they wait outside the door. When Haruhi emerges she gives them a polite nod and a smile. “She’s in a good mood,”

     They both bow their thanks and enter the room. It’s Yuki, and Sakura keeps the wince from showing on her face.

     “Haruno-sama, Hatake-san,” Yuki says in greeting. She gives them a tight lipped smile, but that’s better than a frown.

     “I apologize, Yuki-san, that I put you in a position where you had to experience the Sharingan,” Sakura bows.

     “I apologize, Yuki-san, that I inadvertently trapped you in a genjutsu with the Sharingan. It was not my conscious decision to do so, and I hope it has not caused you any permanent and unnecessary mental ramifications,” Kakashi bows.

     “It’s alright, both you, really. It’s the hazard of the job, you know. Plenty of others have had similar experiences to me with other Uchiha clan members. It’s alright. Thank you for apologizing,”    

* * *

 

     They walk out and into the streets of Konoha with the sun is just beginning to set. They go back to Sakura’s place, turn up the heat against the spring night chill, and turn on the TV for some semblance of normalcy.

     “Take out?” Sakura asks. Her head hurts.

     “Yeah,”

     While she makes the call, a frighteningly normal thing to do, everything normal, turning on the heat, turning on the TV, calling for takeout is almost entirely metaphysical—Kakashi summons the pack.

     They catch on to the tone of the evening, and settle into their respective places on Sakura’s couch and floor. The TV is on, yet Kakashi is reading Icha-Icha with Bisuke and Bull’s heads on Kakashi’s lap on the floor. When Sakura sits down with her own scroll, Pakkun takes his place in her lap, and the others take up places behind her on the couch or sit next to her on the floor. The TV plays nonsense in the background, and it’s achingly normal.

     The atmosphere is broken when her doorbell rings, and for a second their chakra’s blister as if to fight, before Kakashi settles and gets the door. Sakura has to take a moment to bury her fingers into Bulls short fur, his giant presence a comfort in the face of sudden anxiety. She’s so tired, and the sounds around her feel muffled.

     The next day is also silent. Sakura stews in her own head as she stretches her legs and works on healing the last of her injuries, and Kakashi sharpens his katana. They complete domestic tasks, like showering, and eating, and napping, in shifts, still unable to completely shake the paranoia.

     Dinner again is takeout, and safely ensconced in the cocoon of her apartment, Sakura answers the door. It’s almost easier now.

     There’s still something she’s forgetting.

 

     “We have to write mission reports. Tsunade-shishou wants them tomorrow morning,” Sakura says, setting down two black pens and a small stack of blank paper on which to write.

     Kakashi eyes the black pens. “Do you have any sparkly pens? Maybe markers?”

     “No. I don’t. We are _not_ writing our mission reports in sparkly pen,”

           

     Their mission reports aren’t written in black ink.

     “Ugh, I feel like a child,” Sakura says, slamming the jumbo red crayon down. What she’d written took up half a page in unsightly scrawl.

     Kakashi fixes her with a hard stare. “Good.”

     He’d taken the first step in easing them out of their paranoia induced codependency and run out to his apartment to get his art supplies.

     He leans back in his chair with his single sheet of paper. “Now listen. I’ve decided to write my mission report in haiku:

          Mission was OK.

          Until a snake messed it up.

          Mission went not good.”

     “I’d replace messed with fucked,” Sakura replies, bitter at her own mess of a report.

     “Hmm… good idea,” he says, and scratches out the word. Sakura sighs.

     “That was a mission gone wrong, Kakashi-sensei, we can’t submit things in crayon and haiku,”

     “Well don’t let me stop you from writing an epigram in oil on canvas, or if you’re really feeling ambitious, a sonnet,”

     “Kakashi-sensei,” she tries for an admonishing tone, but it falls slightly flat. Her head is killing her, and chakra isn’t soothing it.

     From where he’s leaning over his paper to rewrite his haiku in jumbo red crayon and decorate his page in doodles of his ninken, he gestures to several sheets of paper on the edge of the table without lifting his head. Sakura peeks over and picks up the sheets. Three pages are filled back to back in black ink and Kakashi’s jagged penmanship. She finds no doodles, and when she skims a paragraph, it’s professional. Sakura sighs again, giving up.

     “Pass me the pink. I’ll try a sonnet,”

 

     They’re back to their respective reading material when Sakura pipes up. “I thought of a haiku—what do you think about this:

           Kabuto, fuck off.

          Orochimaru, get fucked.

          I hate snakes a lot.”

     “I’d say you’re on your way to becoming an excellent poet,”

 

     They go together to hand in their mission reports, and then part ways with a promise of meeting the next night for training.

     “Memorial Stone?” Sakura asks, and he nods.

     “Anko?” He asks, and she nods.

* * *

     Sakura considers going to Anko directly, but since it’s the middle of the day, she doubts Anko would give her the time. Her apartment is empty, and there are take out boxes on her coffee table from breakfast, and a slew of dog hair on her couch.

     She cleans it. Turns off her mind and collects the takeout boxes. Takes out the trash and uses an entire lint roller to get the hair off her couch. She wipes her table. She disinfects it.

     She sits down. Kakashi shouldn’t have left yet. Her weird headspace has only gotten worse since they parted ways. Now, there is no soft rustle of pages or the snuffle of sleeping dogs. There is no murmur of the TV, or the presence of other _life_ , around her. There’s only silence, pressing down like the ocean a 100 meters under. She’s forgetting something, but Inner is silent, and doesn’t nag her about anything like she usually does. Her head pounds, her breathing is shallow upon inspection, and her limbs feel weak.

     Sakura’s gaze strays to the drawer of her coffee table. As if she had the Byakugan, she can see it, the outline, sitting in the belly of the drawer. Absently she chews her lip and pulls on the skin of her arms.

     Distantly, she knows she shouldn’t look at it, not in this mindset. Sakura knows she shouldn’t; it can only end badly.

     But there’s a pen on her desk, and the memories are still fresh, rational is out the window and she’s going to see Anko soon, and—she pulls the drawer open with a snap.

     It’s there, small, black, unassuming. Taking the pen with the soft sting of bleach in her nostrils from the wipes she used to disinfect her table, she writes.

     Diagrams, feelings, nerves he severed, cuts he made. She puts on paper what he put on flesh. She writes the results, writes the feelings, writes the questions that spring up. She asks what else she could cut to achieve the same result. Was it all physical? Was it psychological? If she were to cut someone to pieces like he did what would she feel?

     Everything feels fake. Kakashi shouldn’t have left. She’s forgetting something.

     Anko can give her answers, she won’t let Sakura cut her up and write it down, but she can—bounce? The ideas back off. The sun has just begun to set, and the lamps are lighting up. The trip to TI is short and unmemorable. She leaves her house with her little black book, with everything feeling strange and Inner quiet.

     The receptionist at TI gives Sakura a nod, and doesn’t stop her from heading to a break room. Anko is there, thankfully alone.

     “Pinky! Look who’s back from the dead. You and Kakashi made _quite_ the entrance,”

     “You heard about that?” With a struggle, Sakura manages the appropriate inflection.

     “I’d be surprised if someone _didn’t_ hear about it. Not every day you have Copy-nin Kakashi attacking a nurse and the Hokage’s Apprentice coming in paralyzed,”

     Sakura doesn’t respond, and Anko’s smirk fades.

     “That bad a mission, huh?”

     “I hate snakes,” is all Sakura says in response.

     Anko sighs, mirth vanishing completely. “Yeah,”

     Sakura pulls out her little black book and plops it unceremoniously onto the table in front of her.

     “ _That_ bad, huh,” Anko picks up the book and leans back, flipping to the newer pages. She takes a moment to read through them, and then looks up at Sakura with a sharp look. “I’m not letting you do any of this shit to me,”

     “I know, I just need your thoughts on it,”

     “While snakes are royal assholes, they don’t play with their food that much, or to this degree. Who brought this on?”

     “A rat,”

     Anko purses her lips. “I think I shouldn’t tell Ibiki about this since he’ll be on your heels to recruit you,”

     Sakura is silent.

     “Anko-senpai, can you fight me? It’s not going away,”

     Anko frowns, watching Sakura begin to scratch at her forearms.

     “Sorry, Sakura, but right now you’ll tear me to shreds, you know that,”

     “Yeah,”

           

     “I don’t know what to do,”

     Anko sighs. “Listen, Pinky, I’m technically not supposed to do this kind of thing, but we have a captured Otogakure ninja,”

     Sakura glances up sharply.

     “We’re pretty much done with him, but he still has some fight in him. I can find a room for you two so you don’t hurt yourself or any Konoha shinobi,”

     “Would you?”

     “Gods, I’m a terrible senpai.” Anko laments, “I’m supposed to be a good role model and shit and teach you how to deal with this in a healthy way, like I don’t fucking know, meditating or some shit, hanging out with friends. I’m just making this problem worse, fuck.”

     “Anko-senpai, please,”

     “Fine. Snakes are assholes and so are little rats and they can all burn in hell for bringing me and you to this point,”

     Anko stands and leads her down the stairs into the depths of TI.

 

     Down and down they go until they reach the cells. The air is cold and clammy down here, and Sakura’s chill grows even worse. They walk past a few cells, and Sakura takes curious peeks into each one. Some ninja still have the glow of life in them, and some are withering away. All of them have the look of death to them. They make it down another set of stairs, and Anko stops in front of a cell.

     “Here he is,” she says to Sakura. “Ushi, meet Sakura, she’s gonna take care of you,”

     Sakura extends her hand through the bars in a handshake. He spits towards her feet, but having nothing more to lose, he takes her hand.

     “Sending pink haired bitches now are we?”

     With a swift swipe of her finger she cuts his flexor carpi radialis, the same thing Kabuto did to her, and he wrenches his hand out of hers.

     “The fuck did you do! I can’t move my hand, what the FUCK! You Konoha BITCH,”

     “I see you’re going to get along just fine,” Anko says, and with a quick burst of chakra he’s out like a light.

     “Now, there’s an interrogation room just down the hall, help me get him to it,”

     They move the body and strap him down on the table in the center of the room. It’s startlingly similar to the surgical tables Sakura practiced her anatomy on in the morgue in the basement of the hospital. There’s even a drain.

     “The room is soundproof,” Anko gestures to the grey slabs of stone that make up the walls, “and since this is one of the more medical rooms, there’s no two way glass. I’ll be just outside the door, probably snacking in the hallway—I still haven’t eaten lunch yet—and messing with the others in the cells. Knock ‘Anko’ for me in ANBU script and I’ll come let you back out.”

     “Thank you,”

     Anko gives a little mock of a bow with a hand flourish. “I am totally not winning best senpai of the year awards for this little stunt,”

     “I’ll still nominate you,”

     Anko cackles and closes the door behind her.

* * *

 

     The first thing she does is wake him up. At the sight of her leaning over him, pink hair a halo from the lamp shining onto him, he immediately starts cursing and struggling with the bonds. Sakura isn’t worried, she knows their strength, and she knows his. He’s not going anywhere. She opens her little black book, and sets her pen to the side on the little table provided. Everything feels fake.

     She goes fingers first, something light, something he barely feels and something that is nothing in comparison to what the other TI ninja did during interrogation. Distance between herself grows with every cut she makes—fingers move to wrist, to elbow, to shoulder. He can feel now, everything, but he can’t struggle. He can’t move his arm but he can feel, everything. Like her—she did.

     Once she draws blood, everything stops seeming fake, and just is. She just, falls back into herself. Inner makes room for Outer and a bud of something that Sakura has no name for begins to grow in the vacuum that’s left behind. The void that’s left gives birth to something that keeps Sakura’s hands moving, chakra flowing, and the eyes and mind processing everything in her little black book. In this black book she writes what bastardizations she can think of, and now, with a bud of some ~~one~~ thing with no name, still Sakura, yet not who we know, surfaces, grows and reads that little black book…

     There’s a man strapped to a surgical table who’s been marked as a traitor to the Shinobi nations. A traitor who has had all of the information from his head picked and prodded and analyzed until every secret of his is common knowledge, down to the pathetic excuse he gave his mother when caught drunk when he was 12.

     He’s an Otogakure ninja. The village that Sasuke ran off to, the village that Orochimaru created, the man who killed her parents, the village that houses Kabuto who is everything Sakura could be and _is_ , right now. That little bud is a thorn, and it is poisonous and it pushes Outer away and Inner even further until both are huddled into a mind they’ve heretofore shared with only each other and now share it with an amalgam of something vile and twisted and everything they hate and yet whose strength they admire.

     She writes down in the perfect, loopy script of a child each result of an unorthodox experiment. She plays with his eyes, unplugs and plugs them back in, cuts the chakra pathways and sews them back up. She cuts the actual flesh, draws first blood and there’s no stopping her. When the cuts are ragged she heals them and tries again until the cuts are clean and singed so that no one can possibly heal them again, even her. She keeps him alive, doesn’t let him lose consciousness and assess his pain and adrenaline levels.

     She ends up skinning him. Like she would a peach. The going is rough at first, the chunks she pulls up are uneven, some sections too thin and some to thick with flesh still clinging. She heals the skin and tries again, each try better than the last until her scalpels and then her kunai slide effortlessly, and each stroke of her blade results in a tapestry.

     He babbles, all men in pain do. Some prayers to the gods, some curses at her; he moans in pain, screams in it even, and he’s a shaky, jerky, bloody mess when Sakura that’s not Outer or Inner, who doesn’t have a name yet, pulls from one task to write in her little black notebook. The creamy pages are now stained red and vile, every hypothetical has a solid answer.

     When she forces licks of pain to tear through his pathways does a sentence he screams make purchase, and dig deep.

     “Where is your _humanity_?”

     At that the horrified, awed daze Inner and Outer are at their new head-mate shatters and Outer pushes her way to the forefront as Inner pulls the bud back in deep. Scratching and clawing back to the surface Sakura sees, truly sees, first person, the blood on her hands and on her clothes and feels the heat coming from the man’s exposed flesh and his agonized pants and wails.

     The sound that comes out of her is choked, and with shaking steps, she backs away in horror as to what she’s done. She did this. She did this. Not Kabuto, not some psychopath, or serial killer, but she.

     Sakura backs against the door and knocks the signal so that Anko lets her out. She needs to get out.

     “You done already Pinky—?” Anko takes a look at the barely recognizable human lump on the table and she inhales sharp and quick. “Oh, Sakura,”

     She looks back at the 16 year old girl, who’s staring at what she’s done, warring with herself and trying to beat a monster into submission, numbly shaking her head. Her chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven jerks as she tries to get air into panic filled lungs.

     She can’t stay here, Inner is losing to the bud and Sakura won’t stand a chance against it if she stays in the gore splattered room. She bolts, out of the room, up the multitude of stairs from the basements of TI and into the cold night air where she might be able to breathe. She doesn’t care of her appearance, spattered in blood and organic matter as she makes her way up to the top of the Hokage Mountain, curls in onto herself and _wars_.

     

     The bud doesn’t go down without a fight, Inner and Outer fight the poisonous vine until it takes a human shape, a pink haired child so pale she’s almost green. Eventually, and absolutely exhausted they chain the tiny, pink haired, spitting, vile child down into the depths of Sakura’s mind. Deep, deep down she is in chains and locked in chests in mazes that Sakura sits there and builds, and when she’s done, Inner takes guard and Sakura, gripping her arms so tightly that the diamond nail polish cuts deep, collapses so that she’s staring at the stars far above.

     She doesn’t want to think about it. The child in her head that she cannot kill. She wants to, but what has been born in her mind will not die, it can only be gagged and chained, but those chains can grow weak, the locks can rust and the stone can be worn away.

     She should go to a Yamanaka about this. Maybe Ino, maybe her father. They know about Inner, have seen her, have met her, but she’s a new development and Sakura would do anything to forever shut her out and erase her.

     “Are you hurt?”

     Sakura startles at the voice, weak elbows pushing herself up.

     “Uchiha-san, what are you doing here?” She can’t manage an inflection—she’s too tired to get the words out properly to make them sound human and sane. It comes out bland—there’s no upward lilt to mark her question, and she can manage neither surprise nor anger, nor embarrassment. Sakura winces after the words leave her mouth.

     “ANBU headquarters are about 100 meters from here,”

     Sakura groans out a few choice swears and collapses back onto the ground to look at the stars.

     “How long were you there?”

     “Long enough to see you come up,”

     Sakura winces, but doesn’t say anything more. He sits down.

     “Are you hurt?”

     “No,” Sakura says, smearing the blood on her arm and peeling some of her shirt away from her skin. “I’m fine,”

     The words, automatic, pull up memories from three years ago, sitting in Dr. Toru’s office, panic attacks in the alleyway. It hits her.

     She forgot her fucking meds.

     Her antidepressants, an older brand of monoamine oxidase inhibitors, ones she hasn’t taken for 4 days. She didn’t mark it down in her chart, so they haven’t given it to her at the hospital when she was out, and Kakashi knows not to baby her, so he hadn’t said anything when he didn’t see her take them in front of him, assuming she was taking them in privacy. Her chills, her weakness, her headaches: symptoms of withdrawal. Realization is dawning and Sakura, is just… done. MAOIs can’t be stopped immediately. She _knows_ this, she’s read too much to not have known, and she’s an idiot for not realizing the psychosis when it came to her. It was psychosis from withdrawal, and combined with a mission that left her paralyzed and terrifyingly vulnerable, disgusted, and in so much pain, that it all culminated in a spectacular mental breakdown the second she was left alone.

     A hoarse laugh bubbles up in her throat, and she feels Itachi’s eyes on her.

     “I have just had the worst week, Uchiha-san, you wouldn’t believe,”

     “I’m sure I could. The amount of blood on you speaks volumes,”

     Sakura snickers at the pun, and it’s close to being hysterical. She should really go home and take her meds, but the stars twinkle in a way she doesn’t remember them to have twinkled before. She sighs, mirth fading and mood falling.

     “I failed today. Again. I wasn’t strong enough. Again. I—no matter what I do, how I swing it’s always too far, too fast.”

     The words keep spilling in a slow and lazy river. Sakura’s too tired to shut up. He’s an anchor right now, until the moment she leaves and takes her medication, a human being at her side to talk to, to keep from going back to her withdrawal induced psychosis.

     “I played it safe and failed as a ninja—I failed, and my parents suffered for it. I survived and hated it, hated surviving in a state of weakness and dependency when the whole point of becoming a ninja for me was to gain that independence.”

     Sakura takes a breath, the air is sweet with the smell of apple blossoms. “I try to get stronger. I fight back, use the weapons of my enemies so that when they fight they taste my pain and I fail at that as well. I cannot be ruthless, I cannot be cruel, I cannot be kind—,”

     She stops and looks at him. “You must think me a fool, Uchiha-san,” Her smile is rueful as she scrubs the blood from her cheeks. “To have such a weak constitution in the face of failure.”

     Sakura meets his eye, and doesn’t know if she can expect a reply or just more silence.

     “You got back up,”

     “What?”

     She sees him swallow before he repeats himself. “You got back up. After you failed, as you say, over and over again. You grew, you learned. From what I see, you haven’t fallen for the same mistake twice,”

     “Don’t I though?” Sakura presses. “Don’t I? I fall back on emotion the moment it gets tough. I turn to tears, anger, that do nothing, for me or for anyone else,”

     “That makes you human though doesn’t it? That gives you empathy. Those who can commit atrocities and then continue on with no remorse—It is difficult to believe they are human,”

     Sakura looks back up at the stars and thinks of the bud in her mind and that hour in the basement of TI.

     He looks away. “I can’t say I’ve seen you cry for a silly reason yet,”

     Sakura smiles, “You haven’t seen me cry at all, Uchiha-san,”

     There’s silence for a while, interrupted only by the soft chirp of crickets.

     The sky had started to lighten. The stars twinkling above have grown dimmer, and the sky to the east is pale purple, with the sun having just begun its ascent over the tree line.

     “Why did you sit down?” Sakura asks, interrupting the silence.

     “Hm?”

     “You could’ve kept walking, why did you sit down?”

     He’s silent for a few seconds. “Amongst other reasons, you appeared at the top of the Hokage Monument soaked in blood. Call it curiosity,”

     “Curiosity killed the cat, you know,” Sakura parrots.

     “I heard someone say that satisfaction brought it back,”

     Sakura turns her head to look at him. “Did it?”

     He’s staring out over Konoha. “It did,”

     “I’m normally not like this you know.” Sakura feels the need to give a disclaimer. “I have a stable schedule. I’m almost never covered in this much blood.”

     “All the more interesting when does happen, no?”

     Sakura graces him with an ironically shaded smile.

     The sun is now halfway up above the horizon, and she can feel the beginnings rays of warmth. It’s time to go.

     “I have things to do today,” Sakura sighs, sitting up. Take her meds, talk to Ino, meet with Takeshi. “Sometimes I wish I could just let myself stay fallen apart—wait for the crows to come pick at my insides,” Sakura doesn’t know what she expects as an answer to this confession. She said it to say it, but he deigns her with a reply.

     “I have a summoning contract with the crows, would you like me to summon a few?”

     For the first time in several days, Sakura laughs. Not hysterical, nor crazed, or ironic, she just laughs.

     “Thank you, Uchiha-san—,”

     “Itachi is fine. Distant formality seems moot at this point,”

     “Itachi-san then, thank you,”

     “You’ve done the same for me,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whAtdYA THINK!!!?

**Author's Note:**

> im a slut for reviews ;)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [most girls, or, the one where sakura grows up and gets a fangirl along the way](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13264902) by [theformerone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theformerone/pseuds/theformerone)




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